The swirling, hazy perspective on a long summer's day. The feeling as if time has halted. Expansive blue sky dotted with lazy clouds, watched from patches of warm, tickling grass. The swish of clothing, movement. The sudden shade of a parasol overhead.
It feels like living.
Posted in response to the challenge Painting.
“I could sleep ‘til eleven tomorrow,” I said, throwing myself across her bed, sprawling on her star-patterned comforter. Mary took a seat at her vanity, and I could see her eyes roll on her blue-painted face.
Throwing stones in glass houses
Makes cracks that can be removed
Taken down and restored
But that does not mean there was no damage to begin with.
Comments
I absolutely love this poem/description of Monet's painting. It makes me wish all of the descriptions at museums were written like this :)
Thanks! That means a lot :)
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