A playful squirrel upon the logs
A murky pond with croaking frogs
Morning dew across the grass
Windchimes still, the breeze had passed
Strangers watch the artist’s brush
Casting shadows as they viewed
Upon the canvas and his lunch
hearing every juicy chew
Painting both the land and sky
with grays and browns
for pond-like muck
noticed when the paint had dried
there a little fly was stuck.
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