Clouds behind clouds,
Monet's blue lyricism,
brush strokes
made small canvases seem large . . .
Monet's blue,
I know just the kind of day that was.
near freezing, my feet were wet,
The sun was low, glowing at the horizon, before it set.
I held skates
in my cold left hand.
shoes untied, snow inside them.
Cold, I smelled woodsmoke.
The neighbor's dog was barking.
