it's a simple wooden
bowl
holding fruit. an orange
and apple,
grapes.
it sits on the table
under a bright light,
across from
her easel and chair.
how easily she takes her
hand
and dips the brush into paint.
the canvas
is her home.
and soon, without a word
an empty world
is full, what's in her
eye is born.
Monday, January 6, 2020
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