Summer Memories On a Farm
He is mixing blue and purple on a portrait--me
while gulping coffee
of which water fetched from an old well
A figure taking shape on canvas
Wild strokes my hair
two sparkling dots my eyes
It feels so quiet here on a so quiet farm
Amid the mirror-shine mountain ridge
Not hearing a note from a bird, nor from a rooster
Mr. Brown's head tilting, eyes narrowing
Skinny paint brush against his mustache
long ashes falling off the dying cigarette
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