
Sunday Whirl
Penumbra
In the silence of the studio
The artist inhales inspiration
Ideas flit from heart to head to hand
There in the penumbra
Shades are found
Shades between the perfect shadow
Shades so close in value they almost become a haze
Shapes created upon the surface
Shades of oxidized copper
Gracefully fill the plane
Sands of time slip through the shaded glass
Peppery graphite kisses add the needed spice