I stare through plate glass with a painter's eye.
Horizon's treeline holds me rapt;
drawn to a small clearing between walls of trees:
focal point: a huge denuded oak with widespread skeletal branches.
...
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This is excellent, Hugh. Nature wins, after all. Your descriptions are vivid and your interlude about what an artist might do to your scene is jarring. Perhaps not a real artist...but a commercial one, hmm? Raynette
A great poem Hugh, diverse is the perception of evey being, and poetry offers beauty through nature..we are after all just that. Loved the imagery offered here. Thanks for sharing, Angie
Rich, flowing, dreamy, and so gently sad. A superb piece of writing. Take a 10, Mr Cobb. With warmth, Gina.
An evanescent glimpse captured for a moment in an artist's (in the case a poet's) mind, with even minutiae being considered in the overall picture. 'Distance denies each blade of grass, creating flowing fields / all trompe l'oeil, an illusion, seamless sea of verdancy' are two lines that stood out for me. Your choice of lengthy lines enhance the poem's effectiveness; finding a focal point in the vast panaramic view.