Your Canvas

The canvas was never blank.

I know you not,

But I see that canvas

When I think of you,

And I know -

The canvas was never blank.

Your canvas is filled with shadows

And deep oranges.

You are the sunset at its greatest,

Irreconcilable moment of dusk.

Hills roll and overlap one another,

A dark slope outlines each one.

It’s not unmysterious,

But it could be.

What is behind those hills?

What is in the great unknown?

It is enough, however, to look upon the hills

And not question.

What I see is what I want

What I need is what’s not there.

Except it is -

Hidden behind the known.

So you see, the canvas was never blank.

And if it were would I see more?