i daydreamt of monet at lunchtime
as i sat alone on the bench by the waterfall that marked the
and smelled the
and reminded me of the fact that

sometimes literal meaning is less important than the
smell of wildflowers and the and the way that under the hot july sun
the colors of the forest felt a little brighter
and my skin was more sensitive to the breeze than it perhaps would have been
had it only been sixty five degrees
and not eighty three.

and waterlilies are
,in fact,
a little more green than monet painted them,
and less blue,
but whatever.

or was it just that i hadn't eaten at all in two days
and that i was feeling a little light headed
and when your mind can't help but wander off on its own
then the way that the trees
and the birds
and the children
and the clouds and the sky reflect off of the water
start to remind you a little of monet