RodWords

                            I find you this morning
                            In the swirling
                            Slosh-around
                            Brushwork.

                            In the strokes you always and never intend,
                            Your whimsical touch-noodlings, arm-sweeps,
                                                     glue-gloppers and hand-wiggles.

                            Wrapped-around, Pushing in, Swipe to left
                            Jamming right, Curled around and up and down
                            and rolling in the colors, and then
                            splash-landing on the canvas.

                            Or a careful application, a calculated jab
                            Maybe here, or over there, or, surprise!:
                            A large orbiting gesture, slung 'round and dotted with a dabble-point.

                            Or the layers of paintings under paintings under paintings,
                            Like history, often covered with a glaze, often glowing to the surface.

                            I miss our laughing--turning--plucking--playing--strumming--praying--                                                           jump-around--windy dances.

                            And yet, on this sun-dappled Saturday morning, Avery,
                            I find you.
                            Smiling,
                            In the brushwork.