The story of some places and paintings requires a poem.

TM8285 Listening 16×16 oil on panel


There’s a music that issues

from the woods, even

in summer’s hush.

No notes, no words

hardly a breath.

But still, it can be heard.

This mute hum buzzing

between granite walls,

bouncing past hemlock,

passing through

every living cell,


and a universe

of atoms.


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