Connected.

The mist over water chill.

Suspended in the air,

as the sun rises above

the landscape and adds

its lively yellow hues to the

shadows at the scene.

 

And I walk cold watching all

of this as a painting

without a painter.

 

I stop. A moment. 

A camera.

 

How I shall paint it

with words that hang

in my memory

and linger in this pen

that now evokes

the scene anew:

this precious image,

that will never come,

never come,

quite like this again?

 

21/10/2020