The last painting

I have abandoned the land of dreams,
that illusive backdrop of
poetic extravaganza;
that special place,
where memories are technicolored,
and petty individual histories
are retold in golden, cursive letters,
where the nuances of shadows
are overpowered
by dreamy glow

I will begin, again
of painting deserts
and stark blue skies,
a lone, dried up tree
casting dignified shadows
over the barren landscapes,
and draw another grain of sand
with all my energies
knowing it will be indistinguishable
in the vast monotony

Then I will allow myself
a little bit of vanity
and paint a shell
on the shores of a wild ocean
a shell, tiny, and fragile
and living on the edge
of anonymity
and put down the brush,
content