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A reluctant poem. |
| Author's note: This the first poem I ever had published. It was also the last one I expected to be chosen as it was a reluctant submission. I hope you enjoy it. -------------------------- Watercolors (for Ben Robertson) Sitting by a tree I see Theo chase his sketches across the park squinting behind his spectacles against the glare from the fountain. Flying through the air the drawing remains just out of his grasp flitting to new heights before falling into the fountain. Stumbling across the lawn Theo reaches for the picture dissolving in the water his face soaked from the fountain. |