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Sep 2020
Amidst a closet of memories you find me,
in your simple orange shell with hidden hues within.
Your well-worn watercolors, reverent seeds of future art,
precious keepsakes of your memory still remains.

The magic art you housed brought light to early days
and life to the grayness of the cultureless country;
days of purposelessness and aimlessness, without end;
countless days of sheltering against nature, you painted my life with hope.
All poems copy written by Vicki Kralapp 2/19.2020
Vicki Kralapp
Written by
Vicki Kralapp  Oshkosh
(Oshkosh)   
48
 
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