I remember … painting
the oils and watercolors, charcoal drawings
of a musclebound Marlboro man and four-hour poses
of a well-rounded woman -
both in the nude
and paid by the hour.
Then something happened -
doctors unclear - light became terrible,
sounds unbearable.
Like a caged bird -
a prisoner in bed -
I was weak and depressed....
without any power.
With time as my friend,
I started to mend...
but the virus, the gene -
call it whatever -
had taken its toll... walking, painting, driving,
everything – a challenge.
But I could create art,
petal by petal,
from a pressed flower.
Art & Poem ©L G Rogers 2021
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Thanks, Donovan