it's too cheerful

i go down to the framing

store to

frame a new print

i ordered online.

andrew wythe,

an old house, bordered

by hills and a rugged

fence.

it's gloomy, greens and greys.

it's winter.

the trees are white bones

against the sky.

it feels hopeless,

the feeling one

gets once betrayed.

where are you going to

hang this, the kind

woman behind the counter

asks.

in the kitchen i tell

her.

right now i have a bright

colorful picture

of fruits and vegetables,

flowers. it's too cheerful.

i can't take anymore.