Morph
ascending from the crumbling pavement,
heading skyward along the old clapboards,
knitting ones self into the oaken fiber of your being.
A lonely nail to hang your satchel of hopes and dreams
as the window frames starry nights
and the field of sunflowers bow their heads.
Read it several times… such was the magic of your words!
thank you! Inspired by the photo, I imagined a painting and then tried to feel it in my body.