Call out in silence
Quiet has shape and volume
Mere yellow strokes
Brighten heed and adorn
Pierce the sagging wandering lobe
Protector of the wished
Deliverer of the unloved
In stride she lilts and washes over the horizon
Covers, she softs the locusts
The eye concave in jest
Portraying perfect inverted
The picture has no context, without your easy chair.
