his paintings

i looked at the paintings
not just once, but over and over again

oh, the colors were so bright
the yellows were glaring suns
and the reds were like strawberries
and the blues are what you see in
long summers

i admit i admired the choices
the mood, the glare which, as he
terms it are radical, sort of giving
it the masculine touch of
the rebellious hero, who at the
end, of course, wins his cause,
with his woman beside him and
the orange sun, behind.

i thought he is a friend so i give
my unsolicited opinion, that the
exhibits are more of, gay.

And, without due notice, he
shut me out of his blonde world.
I regret losing such a friend.
I could have been nicer, but
putting a blind eye, and a deaf
ear, in my face. Hmm, my big
honest mouth sometimes.