My hand…look…fast is waning,

No more refrain from word-straining.

For the end swiftly approaches.

Expressionisms flow, in draining,

For sorrow encroaches.

Oh, how steady on its’ course,

We lose and then regain our source.

But hence I fear it will ne’er return,

Dripping-composure off-course,

May have no yearning to return.

K. Aldaya, 9/27/05

Picture:  “A Lady Writing” (Close-up) by Johannes Vermeer (1665-66); http://www.essentialvermeer.com/catalogue/lady_writing.html#.VULKsJO8jGs