The One Who Guards Water Lilies

Some days it is merely pigments
greens and blues in speck and stroke,
one of hundreds,
when the halls fill with faces
gasping, leering, wild-eyed
or solemn, when voices
pretend at intimacy with the subject,
the one who guards Water Lilies
looks at it, again,
sees it as a child might,
and discovers it a masterpiece.

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