Original artwork description:

There’s a bench that waits for me in my dreaming
It is plain and shows the scars of spring soakings
Cracked from frost thaws, it sits mossy in the mud

It’s much more than it seems
I arrive heavy and leave light
Crystal breathe escapes my mouth
and the tinkle of tinfoil duets the winter stream

I tear a corner of my sandwich and sit
warming fingerless-gloved fingers on tea
he won’t be long
he never is

Through iron hard purple, slashes red
I share my bench and my meal
balled fists and white knuckles relax and blush pink
it’s time to leave
in a flutter of wings
I can breathe again.

A5 acrylic painting on board.

Materials used:

Acrylic and pencil on board

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