time
to disappear

become

red jade orange
gray
dots or points on a paper or a fabric

and the ocean

blue splashes
capped
with white

as the summer sun burns
at its brightest
before it drips and melts down to its wick


© Whit Howland 2019

The little brush
used to dab over words
typed or misspoke

and that made globules
of white paint
on the page

outside
someone's whiting out a canvas
painting

over images and words
that have grown stale
and no longer serve them well

Whit Howland © 2019

it seems
I’m caught
in a funny place

I want to paint
a picture with words
but all that comes to mind

are quick thoughts
the kind you jot
on scratch pads and post-it notes

and the best I can do for and image
is one of a Sax
not brass colored mind you

more brushed - nickel
that’s used
for a bathroom faucet

and blowing into its reed
is like turning the ****
hot or cold

instead of water gushing
from the spigot
seedy cocktail jazz fills the basin

until it overflows
spilling onto the floor
then it seeps through the ceiling

flooding all levels of the house
I’ve been there before
and there are water stains to prove it

Whit Howland © 2019

Fall is here
and someone spilled a million cans of paint and now
the forest is splashed with gold and red
and through it all trickles silver
just a slash
among and over dull gray mounds that pass for rocks
the impression I get is that you don't love me anymore
and now our love has reached its brightest and most colorful stage its value to you is scarce
and that in a short while
a strong gust of wind will rip it from its branch
sending it spiraling to the forest floor

have I read this right

or did you have some other message in mind

Whit Howland © 2019

Still life
like silver apples
sitting

pop art in
a front yard
rust now rolling

up on once apple
green paint



© Whit Howland 2019