
A drawing doesn't always have to be complete to make a statement. Sometimes less is more.
Commute
The clouds kissed by the evening sky,
A flock of geese are flying by.
The fragile pink fades to dark blue,
A glint of sunlight peeking through.
The blue sky soon begins to fade,
While evening traffic's on parade.
Oblivious to the glorious show,
Their daily ritual, come and go.
As quickly as the cars fly by,
The colors fading from the sky.
Lost the chance to drink it up,
To feed the soul, to fill ones cup.
The darkness soon to settle in,
Still lights along the freeway spin.
Like ribbons red and ribbons white,
Descending far into the night.
Sonja