Amber Rodriguez's Gallery

Her colors strange, but strangely right,
Translucent rather than opaque.
To catch the play of shapes and light,
She paints what words could not write.
Of clouds aglow in pitch-blue night.
Acknowledging a good mistake
Not letting cordoned facts out of sight
To catch the play of shapes and light
As soft, low waves crisscross and break,
She paints what words could not write
Her canvas, stretched and primed in white,
Absorbs reflection like a lake
To catch the perfect shapes just right.