{"id":7501,"date":"2021-05-19T19:26:08","date_gmt":"2021-05-19T18:26:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/stuartpoetry.art\/?p=7501"},"modified":"2021-05-19T19:26:08","modified_gmt":"2021-05-19T18:26:08","slug":"the-landscape-artist","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/2021\/05\/19\/the-landscape-artist\/","title":{"rendered":"The Landscape Artist"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Pilar was in an avenue of short trees<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The summer leaves were shading her from the heat of the day<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Symmetrical marble benches were positioned opposite each other<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Some were being used by people wishing to shade themselves from the sun<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Others were vacant<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Pilar was running away from a haunted poem<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">It was called\u00a0<em>The Landscape Artist<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">She had written it a few years previously<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">And it had haunted her ever since<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">It occurred in her dreams and during her waking hours<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Pilar was carrying a handwritten copy of the poem<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">In the loose pocket of her red cotton dress<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">She had prayed for its loss but it maintained its presence<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">An old man spoke to her as she passed him<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The poem had fallen on to the dusty path and he handed it back to her<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Pilar ran a shower when she returned to her apartment<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">She stood under the cascading water with the poem in her hand<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">It was her hope that the poem would be washed away<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">But no characters were displaced indeed they grew stronger<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">As soon covered the white tiles of her wet room wall<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Pilar was in an avenue of short trees The summer leaves were shading her from the heat of the day Symmetrical marble benches were positioned opposite each other Some were being used by people wishing to shade themselves from the sun Others were vacant Pilar was running away from a haunted poem It was called\u00a0The [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7501"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7501"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7501\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7501"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7501"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7501"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}