the pale moon light shined on her face
as the crisp autumn air blew her long silk hair back
she sat on a bench staring at a beautiful muilicolored tree
she had a small journal in one hand and a paintbrush in the other
she paints a silent picture
the paint brush dashes from side to side
so much color so much flow
she admired the people walking by
she would love the way her hands started to feel numb the more she painted
she would sit in the same bench season after season painting the same trees the same sky
but it would always look different