Ode To Art
As a small pen shoots across the page, a line is born.
As I draw a person going, going, gone.
Sailing through a fjord,
telling ancient tales of yore.
The sea then spirals down,
a splintering CRACK of brown.
The ship is split in twain.
The crew is whisked away, just to set a scene another day.
Two teens, leaving a blue spray.