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Photo by Tom Coleman © 2001

Elements

washed in water,  an impressionist painter, reflecting the world
soft blurred into forms and colors we can feel easy with,
to take as we will, and bend to our fancy
tempered by fire, a furnace of passion, transforming the world
rending the forms and colors into heat and ash, fast gone
our choice is slim or none, we are swept up
in the wind,  a reckless youth, sweeping flotsam from the world
carrying away what is loose, cleansing the pallet,
scouring the landscape, and renewing the soul
of the earth,  a preserver of tradition, holding roots of the world.
So inhale that rich loamy odor, born of many, varied lives,
some long since past, still feeding the new


© Tom Coleman 2001-2

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 Creek


Smooth glistening skin   
shines in afternoon sun 
gently cooled by rivulets  
 
dripping hair runs  
rippling around your curve 
riveting my attention 
 
siren song draws
me unresistingly near
melting firm to your chest 
 
find two warm centers 
fresh new textures  
hard pillow elastic rock 
 
cool water notes 
sing simple counterpoint
to this rich chord we make
 
fugue composed of two lines 
one ecstatic musical architecture 
from apprentices of passion 
 
 
               
                 © 1999-08 Tom Coleman

Samples of my writing: