Saturday, March 1, 2014

Hors d'oeuvre

The Arts - Poetry ---

Three Verses
Ric Couchman

Truly great was their loss;
They hung their heads in burdened sadness,
But the soft green will come again.

Like Brushstrokes on the landscape
A sea of verdant green blooms serene,
While in fitful sleep the dead lie beneath.

We play this strange game
In which neither of us looks at the other,
But I caught you stealing a glance at me.

[Photo Art #1 by Adilson Araujo and Photo Art #s 2 & 3 by Ric Couchman]

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