Wooden Frame

There’s a hole in the clouds
Pretty close to where my fingers use to reach
But now they stake land in pockets
Walking down the muddy, tire paved streets
And it takes a little touch
And it takes a little brush
To paint
I pass by neighbors on their farms
This town has little plans where I don’t belong
And now I’m walking between the tallest trees you’ve ever seen
As they line up and fall right off the page
And it takes a little color
And some time to dry on canvas
And it takes a 20×16 wooden frame
To make his journey away seem sincere
Away from here