The brushes have long since been rinsed out,
the water now a dull grey.
Lifeless though it seems,
tired are its' dreams
yet awake it is
today.

But if you waited just one more second before
pouring it all out;
Just one second
would have shown you
the incorrigible beauty of
a streak
of neon green.

A streak.

One single, solitary stroke.

It has come back.