There’s something of life in the picture –
dreich mist over storm-dark hills, the lift
of the water as it leaves the canvas,
the peek of light through the foreground
break in the clouds.
I feel wet sand between my toes,
watch eddying rain watering down
shy sunlight, hear the splash
of sea on rocks
the pull of currents.
Wind fresh in my face, drawn
into the scene, I drown in the lake
of a painter’s imagination.