I want to paint

A guitar so loud that it will bounce back and forth against your ear drums.

The red gleaming apple on the teacher’s desk glazed with power as it sat upon us.

 I want to paint the silence of the dark dismal night as the moon smiled at me.

 I want to paint the sound of the bird singing to me as I wake up.

I want to paint the sound of a plane swooping off into the sky

 getting ready for take off.

 I want to paint the end of this poem.