The landscape of the Mind

My landscape tends to cloudy and morose, facing into the wind

Cheeks chilled by sea spray, the world is mostly grey with skittering clouds.

I stared at this landscape at the museum, immersed in its stark beauty, noting how 

Many shades of grey, of brown, I walked into the frame and stood there next to 

The two women, all three of us still as statues, painted figures in a landscape 

That could easily draw frozen tears or grimaces that we can't see from outside.

Yet, perhaps we are all smiling at the movement of the clouds and the sea, I could 

Not see my own face, curiously, as I walked out of the frame

I turned to my companion and asked her about her mind landscape.

We live in different worlds and I'll have to ask her if she entered a painting 

That afternoon and what she discovered while there.  

There is an opening in that sky.