color me

yesterday
was the first day
in a very long time
(a year?)
(years?)
that i don't paint

somehow the indecision here
is related to that;
the inability to connect
to what i saw,
to what i felt,
to what struck me so hard
about this wet glade of trees
at a truck stop
and my inability to communicate it

my inability to go out on the metaphorical limb
and commit to a fancy

all makes me wonder
if the missed day is only that
or
if it is a beginning,
a beginning of an end