January 14, 2009
By Ian Jacobs, Mequon, WI

Charcoal air seems to cleanse the breath.
The morning is so vibrant my eyes close.
Green is the color of the world under the yellow sun,
And blue is the world above.

A ray of light shines most vividly through a sky of clouds.
While the sun beats down like a feathered pillow,
The grass gives cool comfort underneath me.
Now every nerve is at rest.

Fire far away robbed the desert of its water,
Yet my skin does not dry in the sun.
Oils leave a layer of pearlescent beauty
On a canvas admiring its own grandeur.

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