The Function of Art: My Attempt

 The Function of Art: My Attempt

     It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease

     to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new

     meaning in it.                                                                                       Anais Nin

The stand of trees out back is a green wave in a windy sea of wood.

A flash, a boom, a bolt strikes an old oak out front, and makes of it a dead hero who saved us from lightning.

The storm moves on, the full moon winks, as a cloud like an eyelid passes before it.

A blaze arises in the East as Old Solius repeats his ancient journey across the heavens.

The maple lays a colorful carpet of leaves on the lawn.

Animals scurrying to and fro’ to lay-in a winter larder mimic the workers commuting to their jobs.

The poet pauses to shake some metaphors out of his sleepy head, like a maple shedding its colorful leaves.

It is, after all, only 7 am, and the coffee is still brewing.