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Mar 17, 2011

Stroked

He marked his niche,
he set his pastel borders
in candid engines of color,
squiggled doodles
in feverish zeal. 
Rivers to plateaus, 
stars to planets,
or cat sisters for dog brothers.
Sinkable ships in disjoint lines
lay canvassed, in an untidy
coherence of naivety.
These strokes, plethora 
of nascent hope
basked on squeaking spotless teak.
Scuttled he merrily                                            
on his little proud feat,
only to be sternly rebuked.  
Without mutiny or fight  
he cried guilty, ran -
to his territory in panic, 
used rapid strokes to undo
only to spread the color,
blurring his masterpiece,
trading his potential for approval
in her secure, peaceful arms.

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