I went out for the paper yesterday and looked up through the cherry tree. There above me was a Jackson Pollock painting with inspired splotches and streaks flung black on blue by some random brush. My spider up in the corner of my porch has disappeared so I had no one to talk to about my thoughts as I stooped for the paper and turned back to the house. Still, it made me wonder how many other marvels awaited when the day got under way.
What brush paints these leaves just so,
limbs vulnerable in their nakedness?
I nod acknowledgment, head indoors.
Must see what important news
humans created overnight.
~~David L. Harrison