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Evening TideSoft are the waves that rush to the shore. There are the foamy waves to quench the sandy shoreline. Two people walk down the sandy beach holding hands. Off to the right is a painter with his easel and paints. Capturing the essence of the waves he changes the canvas. From a total blank canvas to add some color to it is what he does. Looking to the left he sees a little boy with a pail. He approaches the boy and extends his hand. The boy responds and gives a big smile. Without hesitation the painter, Raul, paints the boy upon the canvas. From the distance is a pier where all the fishermen have their poles. Calmly, Raul, paints the fishermen upon the canvas. But what attracts him most is the evening tide. The mountain to the left is so high it is hauntingly quiet. The rocks below are collectively atop the water's edge. Having captured the sights he has seen, Raul departs. (© Poeticbearlovestowrite 2016-1-5) Vote for this poem |
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