POLetsy in color: Olive

"In the olive..."

There were little colored pebbles 

   on the path beneath our feet; 

   small, tightly curled leaves. 

The hills that held the morning 

   seemed ancient as the sun 

   and philosophy the spine of the world. 

I was thrilled with dancing atoms 

   and you with shaping states. 

I cut and spun and stabbed the air 

   with short dark stubby fingers. 

You swirled and stroked and molded it 

   with slender artist's hands. 

I spoke of visions. 

You sang about the dreamer 

   being more important than the dream. 

When I began to analyze, 

   you laughed 

   and stuffed an olive in my mouth. 

Anitra Freeman

Here are olive finds from Polish Artists for this week:

'POLetsy in Olive' by poletsy

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