The Painter after a Stroke

Half the loft in darkness,
Half the flowers watered,
Daylight shines halfway across the floor
Like a line he drew
With a yellow marker.

Half his mail unopened,
Half his cat visible,
One speaker crackles in and out,
A spark of recognition
Comes and goes.

He smiles like a canvas
With a middle margin,
And pointing to a window
Beside his easel
Perfect halves meet.

One thought on “The Painter after a Stroke

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