My days blend with abstract strokes
marking my canvas of yesterday.
A painting with darks of red and green-
broken hearts and shreds of torn dreams
ripples of ebbs and flows of mourning.
Our Orchid wilts in smears of gray
as Cardinals sing their afternoon song
I hear the roar of a Harley coming strong
flooding me with thoughts of you and I
riding mountain views and ocean blues
visions in colors of a time we made love
under a blooming canopy of Orchid.
In truth, our love was mostly a torrid affair
we hid with tangled webs of weak threads
and bitter trust.
I hear the roar of a Harley fading away
my abstract strokes I paint in hues of red.
©River 4/11
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