Lost

 

Lost as the list that the wind 

Whipped from a hand

And dropped 

in a puddle.


That the author,

In a foreign land,

Holds in their mind,

Repeating and repeating,


Until it becomes a song. 

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Kurt

  Troubled soul in a landscape, Muted colours, soft, open strokes, Sometimes wild, He paints for love,  For life, For hope  And tries to reb...