To Paint a Sunset.
By. Crow Corleone
A clear slate
The brush dabs into the red
And absently brushes the paint
onto
The empty canvas
A clear slate
Marred by crimson
A
brush of pink
A flash of lavender
A hint of orange
Splotchy
spots of gold
Artfully placed in what white was left
The area
darkens and
I pause to gaze at my muse
And frowns
Was it
me
Or did the muse move down?