Thursday, June 27, 2019

PERFECT




Brush strokes of blue and gray
to fill in the puffy clouds.
Crayon swipes of teal and aquamarine
to meet the neverending horizon.
Each wave swell of purest white
rises from the depths of dark blue.
My fingers reach for the canvas.
My eyes travel to the brushes.
I shake my head.
No painting is needed.
No copy will diminish the essence 
of a perfect summer day at the shore.

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