The window pane is open, then paint
the hues, probably purple and blue.
The citrus sun is leaving, lonely
as it arrives, as it stains against
rusted cranes, clouds many formed by fumes
from Le Havre‘s ships that have never stayed
still, and the waters stirred slowly
by fishermen’s paddles – brushes
dipped after leaving long, heavy strokes
on the sea where the sun scintillates.
after Monet‘s work with the same title
for April 1, a late post for NaPoWriMo; will be posting more for 2 & 3 later