Poem: The Wait

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The Wait

A few brisk strokes of the brush.
A color or two you use less often.
An uncertain painting,
art, perhaps, for the times.

You have to live with it a while
to know what you think.

About this poem

Sometimes, when I try something new, it takes me a while to decide whether or not I like it.

A poem for the times we are in, and about my own creativity.

Tom

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