Morning
Empty canvass, untouched
The painter enters the room
His playfield like any other
What you do with this new day
What colour does he use
What's the kind of game
All of that
Is answered with a first simple stroke
On the canvass, on the violin, with you hand
Another masterpiece, simply by yourself
Or for others to see, hear, feel
And all because it is another morning
A new chance, a new day
© Ad Vulto. 2016. All rights reserved.
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