Dear House,
This is a love poem
to the structures that you bring forward
not just in beam or
door
but to the cradle of you
that ushers forth song
Dear Snow,
this is a love poem to you
for the unraveling that you
force on foliage
so that all seems to be naked
and bark becomes unabashedly exposed
(though I am bundled)
Dear you who are reading,
what is it you want from the pictures I give?
Do you think you are the place that they have come from in your seeing?
Perhaps they are.
Your molecules are my mates.
This is a love poem to you.
-Moksha Sommer (yes, I am the doer of the artworks too)