Nimble fingers skim across canvas
leaving streaks and dabs
of blue, orange and black,
her favorite colors.
Slowly, to the music in her head,
a face begins to peak out,
hiding behind black curls
like raven's feathers.
She dips her left hand into
the blue abyss of a paint pot
and as she draws it across the
sky of her canvas a memory flies by.
With a flip of aging hair she chases
it away. Silver reflects the moon,
so the elders say.
Mother earths companion.
Burnt orange drips from her hands
with hints of green and yellow,
the colors roll onto her canvas, creating
a sunset on west coast sand dunes.
Her toothless smile begins to show,
and from her leathered face
peacock blue eyes dance in triumph,
she has captured the raven child.
3 days ago