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The orange sunset bleeds, and in its wake Corona of moon flaunts a hue…opaque; To etch one’s vision until dawn rises While brushstrokes in oil abandon the day-- With pigment lavender circling away. And tints slip-slide on radiant flowers Where a pond’s varnished shades daub evening hours , That olive boughs hang on an easel moist Embellishing garlands utterly white Along ebullient woodland, red and bright. How such tapestry fires one mossy dance Allowing colors their natural vibrance… As still- life frame bursts into a mural: Here, an artist traces traces again In night’s fall … bold paint sparkling the wood’s den. Written 10/11/2018 -------------- Anthony Slausen’s The Paint Mover(s) Contest

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