To me you are not a lakefront
forty below wind chill factor
You are not Hancock and Sears
Deep Dish, Wrigley, or
Bozo’s Circus
Lions guarding the stairway up
Inside old friends await
Some young, others old
All unaware I have been absent
Black Cross of New Mexico
A Sunday Afternoon
on the Island of Grande Jatte
A Basket of Apples
And The Red Armchair
A place where a stream train
bursts through a fireplace
Clocks melt
Nighthawks
And a Jew Prays
A place where my eyes were opened
To limitless possibilities
Expressed in line and color
Framed and hung on a wall
Texture, shade and perspective
Visions of Eternity
The Eventuality of Destiny
And a Self-Portrait
Can be found at
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