small world problem is this
what to do with oneself on a sunday
or a tuesday when the lure of old ships
or the coins of an emperor
no longer hold sway on the mind
pushing fingers into paper
perforating holes between the side and another
plein-air painting without brushes just
movements of wrist and arm
made for show framed land-
scapes made from scrap lumber
nailed haphazardly into rectangles
left standing in the open fields
the two of us staring through them
contemplating our own separate lives
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