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
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