Reflections

Getting up in age, I thought I would share a bit about my poetry and painting. Both the poetry and painting are ways I express and record my reflections on this life. Looking at paintings or a poem, is almost like reading a page of my diary. I decided I would share some of the thoughts and feelings I have when looking at a poem I have written or a painting I have painted.

         Tonight, I stumbled across a poem which appeared in Nomad's Choir in 2016 entitled, "Musical". I was not listening to music  when this poem was written. My wife and I were actually on the verge of a fight, it was around supper time on a cold dismal winter evening. To avoid having a fight, I stormed out of the house and walked in the snow, without a coat, for four or five blocks. I stopped and was going to sit down on the curb of 5th Avenue, but it looked wet and cold. Everything looked dark and gray, and I realized this was one of the first times I had been out at this time of evening, since I had been diagnosed with glaucoma. At that moment I felt like I was in a soap opera, but a Russian soap opera.

Musical

forests dark and gray,

eternally trapped in the twilight,

classical music in the wind,

Russian in sound,

dark as a winter night,

tree limbs dance in the icy darkness.