Another poem from 2007.
Song to Paints
I sing to the paints
to thick globs of acrylic oranges and yellows
to crimson and molten mars.
They capture my thoughts on canvas nets.
They sift through my bad tastes, acknowledging kindly,
And echo my most purified truths.
They channel love – newfound –
A love for life! For paint!
For a girl, no doubt!
They sing:
“you are a waning 17-year-old!
Live in the rain;
Between the sycamore and the chestnut!
You are a boy!
Live! Love! Express emotion!”
I sing to these paints on my pallet -
a repertoire of everything me -
They sing back -
a portrait reflecting the purest joys in life -
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