shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Sarah Carleton

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Art and Nature

He's plugged in so only he can hear
and he paints by playing, letting guitar chords splat
on a purple background like vertical birds flying
in a line across the computer screen,

wings spread for sustained notes, blank spaces
for pockets in between–bird, space, bird, space,
regular as planted rows.

Outside, weed sparrows flit down from a low branch
and search the ground for chicken feed,
with the squeaks and fight squawks
of the feral. They flap rapid and hop like fluff.

I borrow an earbud and watch him sow a riff.
I'm waiting for a flock to sprout—
for notes to lift off, scatter and soar.