Monet’s Poplars

Green, gold, vermillion

wave to me from across the river,

small broad leaves swaying and shimmering,

flickering in autumn light.

Their stippled surfaces,

tinged in rust and emerald,

rustle, waffle in wind,

Scatter along the shore.

sleep, sun, shadows

mute their colors.

Blur my vision.

Peggy Messerschmidt