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Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #2204281
art poem about a canvas
Naked,
stark crisp emptiness.
A Canvas staring at me
oblivious to its ambiguity.
A weight pressing down on my easel
Atmosphere, like a landscape
stretching empty across my thoughts.

And now with a stroke on its surface,
parts are pressing against each other
confronting the void
compressing time
capturing movement.
Creating balance?
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2204281