I am where I wanted to be
And I am full of grief
Still the sunlight comes in
On a wall painted aqua
The crisp white frame
Almost as moving
As the painting itself:
A girl perched on a
Translucent ocean
In a dusty rose tunic
On rowboat the color
Of old paper, like the sky,
The foam on the water,
The only things not some shade
Of blue, except for the long line
Off the fishing pole, which with
Ink tangled dark runs off the page
And could be snarled forever
Except for how it returns, to offer
The unbaited hook to a fish
Like the ocean: dark above
And light below.
Photo by Ishan @seefromthesky on Unsplash
