A painting’s still in progress––
Parisian life
numbered for color.
People sit at an outdoor café,
sip wine
between conversations.
A man delivers his wares
in an ancient
but sturdy wagon
as long as his horse
can be of service.
But the artist
didn’t finish her piece.
Instead,
she allowed age
to paint the edges,
kept some areas
devoid of color.
Inside her dented box,
capsules have lost their oil.
Brushes lie unwashed,
too brittle for use––
inertia lives in the dust.
I wonder why,
but the artist isn’t here
to answer.
Patricia Carragon
Brooklyn, N.Y. -- U.S.A.
Donated to Doctors Without Borders
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