Canvas

My hands hold the paintbrush of my world

     the hues and tinctures and tints

     riding the wind like steeds

     tucked pillow thoughts

     borrowed from the sun

     wet whispers and tanned skin

     swirls and curls of existence

     black wine sunsets on rims

     of crystal glasses

    blue-gray clouds of sorrow

    frozen shadows of winter coats

    stained glass shivers

    the curves of swans

    naked nothings of nature

    cradled in my hands.