This Old Shack Contest

Darkish blue, purples and reds, Strokes of paint dance inside my head, Evening lights, brushed just right, I can taste this special night, Moon far off, fading through this black frame, Focus geared towards the star lit name, Mina Mills, written in cursive swirls, Each letter has a twist and twirl, Extended road, destination straight, Longing to know what awaits, Autumn trees, almost bare, Colors drip, as I stare, Below, in the corner, hidden but alive, a place that exists, though it's been Deprived, A little shack leaning against a tree trunk, Broken windows with a roof that has sunk, Vacant and cold, Abandoned, and old Some what misplaced, In such a beautiful place, Leaves me questioning the artist intentions, What was her reason for this subtle mention. Contest: the picture frame