Look
Through the window
watching paintbrush skies
fade into a starlit night
moving over us
hurdling forward
carrying our suitcases of reflections
- worries, frustrations, relief.

Look
without seeing
Because I'm imagining a memory
- frightfully similar
to predicting the future.
Cornering the world,
I'm turning away
from paintbrush skies.

Look
back and forth between
my canvas and my muse
within and without my mind
Moving with broad strokes
that shrink into the detail
Never quite sure  if I'm seeing
what's really ahead
or in my head.