At this late hour
contemplating a deliberate plan
eyes work through fatigue,
as crows feet grow,
legs stationary
mind having left the soul,
resenting the direction
retracing the flow...
quieted along the path,
faulted lines show
a moderate to large scale
fracture,
and underlying swell.

It is a life traveled,
marveled by eagle eyed sight,
no damage to the structure,
shifted to the right.

Collapsing splinters jot new landscapes,
laid to waste, by beauty of worded brush,
yielded as sword, to the ground with ******,
painted collections line broken walls.

Shall the brush be to conquer?
Or a natural force, under command?
Contemplating the deliberate plan,
so divided, alone,
the degrees of force,
unwieldy; wholesale destruction,
too much for one man...
the canvas awaits the final blow.

http://www.robross.ca