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The Muse

I couldn't tell whether the sunset streamed Into her eyes or flowed out of them.

The Muse (Raanana, March 31, 2019) I feel a bitter pleasure in remembering that day In the forest outside our small village. I was walking down a leafy path Toward the little lake where I would sit By the water with my back against a smooth rock To make some modest sketches And write what came to me. Down the shore a ways The woman sat as was her wont Without a stitch of clothing on her Back against the generous trunk of...