Fifty-six has walked the road less traveled,
Intent more on the view than on the end.
For her success is measured in the moment -
To render beauty few can comprehend,
Yet absent which the heart becomes unraveled.
She knows too well what spirit she must spend
In making painted paths seem steep or graveled,
Xeroxes like scrims, alive, transparent.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.