There’s an unfinished painting
Above the piano
It might be stones or water
Or nothing
I can’t tell
It’s a fine line between
Abstract and incomplete
Found it at a garage sale
An old lady died
Her son was selling a stack
She never signed them
He said
They weren’t finished
She said
A little added here and there
Who knows what they were
At the beginning
Or how they wandered
Over the years
Now she’s dead
And here it hangs
Unfinished still
I love that painting
-T. Weeks
Life Immense 