• Vol. 06
  • Chapter 12

Out of Art

comes struggle,
struggle to produce
Frag mented       life,
arms akimbo,
brushes in hand
too many choices
laid out before me,
head tired,      so tired.
Feeding the need
in snatches,
bursts     of color
jumble of words
How lovely     the day
could be
when no choice
     is necessary.
A day of art
and         nothing more
no alarms
    no chores
no outer voices,
                 just me.