Softening

Softening

The landscape…an easel.
The pallet drips
with deep shades of red.

The rock wall fashioned—
a bed of blue submerged in
the background.

A wanderer steps into the scene—
quietly sitting in the masterpiece
displayed…

the onlooker can SEE
—the rocks
—the towering steeples
—the jagged edges
the smooth sheets that hang

like a curtain with no rod…

they are beginning to soften.

Yes, the painting
begins to crumble.

One stone unleashes a cascade
of boulders.

The rolling thunder
gives rise to a cloud of dust.

The one holding the gaze
stands…

The image settled—for NOW.

A new picture created.

Paint brushes in hand—
the easel endless

The sojourner
walks on.

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