0497

scraping shadows across uneven ground,
wind in the trees makes a rushing sound,
scratching leaves across the surface spin,
awaiting for the rains to eventually begin,
down comes a leaf passed by a feather,
up to the sky it flows in this harsh weather,
strokes in the pain of the sky and trees,
a blur of emotions and mixes of what the eye sees,
joins to the canvas a piece of stick,
as the paint grips over being thick,
leaving it there as now it is art,
a tree painting done with a real life part.