The Painting
The heavy smell of water in the air
The hazed sunrise -
like a water color painting.
Clouds roll by -
like a swab
smearing the whites with yellows
yellows with blue.
The horizon shakes and melts -
into the scene.
As the road leads into the sky -
long whisps form roller coaster loops.
They crash -
Then dissipate into the light blue canvas
A breeze moves all around -
like a breath
Tiny leaves jump from the trees -
like pencil shavings
Ready for the next scene.
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I write because it's how I speak to the world.
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