The Wall
At first the wall
was easy to paint
my oil-crayon colours
mixed so well
to do mortar and brick
a step closer
and then another step
the wall got harder
and the closer I got
the harder it became
to paint the wall
each brick
became itself
bit by bit
brick by brick
a crayon-full
of colour
driven by hunger
each pock and crevice
forced me closer
soon I needed
a whole wall
to paint my wall
my arms ached
and my body hurt
as each new wall-sized picture
required more
of my crayons
than I could carry
more paper
than I could hold...
now I am working
a section at a time
to cover each
small surface of
a brick’s existence
the paintings
are getting smaller
one portion of a brick
becomes a crumb of cake
another a ward-
robe made of
autumn twigs
a drop of water
gets in
a sky-blue drop
with miniature crayons
to-day
I did just one part
Of a drop
a drop
that has invited
me to paint
inside its walls
of breathable glass.
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