The landscape artist

I watched a landscape artist

who was moving the nature

from the bosom of earth.

on a canvas.

The scenery was coming to life, slowly, meticulously.

From the far end of the green meadows

the trees moved in.

The trunks first, followed by the high branches,

and finally, the flowers, on the tip of the young shoots.

Colours mingled in abundance.

A man was walking his dog.

A woman moved on the edge.

Her loose, golden hair, dancing wildly

with the breeze.

From among the forest, the searching eyes of a deer

appeared and froze on the canvas.

The brush swerved slowly,,

bringing to life the nature in full.

Someone passed by, humming a song.

The painter sat him on an abandoned rock.

The notes wandered outside the frame.

Two lovers kissed on the lips,

and whispered something inaudible.

The murmur of their love

wandered outside the frame.

I watched the still nature moving

to the frame.

The sounds, the music, the words

all, outside the frame,

spoke of an unfinished business.

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