Life on the End of a Paintbrush

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Life on the End of a Paintbrush

by Kim Lindquist

I’ve seen many a scene from the place I live
In shades from day to night
Gardens and wars and faces I give
All are within my sight

I live not alone, but with many alike
Though we differ in certain ways
From purpose to size, to strokes wide or tight
All circle through the maze

For months I go forgotten, untouched
Not knowing how or why
Until a hand emerges to extinguish the dust
That for so long was piled high

And I’m soaked and I’m dipped and I’m trailed and I’m rubbed
Paired with colors and pigments and wild emotions
And after the work, I’m washed and I’m loved
And I feel such peace at the notion.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. sally Lindquist says:

    Dang, Kim! You are good!

    Grandma

    Like

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