The Wall

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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