Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Water colour but the rain ceased,
the old man leaves the dry patch
he made upon the bench,
and now reflects upon the path
with Brutus, long companion,
close by and leading still,
into the morning mist
and shadowed, ghostly trees.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 08.09.23
Prompt: As per illustration.
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