Quietly it lay in its strangeness
appearing both living and dead
speaking a myriad of dialects
neither lovely nor repulsive.
The trees came out leafless
with a spidery arrangement
hint of fury was carefully hidden
by the surrounding still murky waters.
A supple breeze hovered around
it was hot and humid
carried neither odor nor perfume
it was bizarre but oddly exciting.
The fine gray sky carried a promise
also passed odd blinding longing
a sickly sweet anticipation
of discovering and exploring everything anew.
all seemed evermore missing
Or was it just self-fed illusion?
One thought on “The Portrait”
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