First draft of a poem I’m working on. I noticed that I was deeply in love with the words “epoxy resin” and also my husband’s decision to become a full-time artist now too, and this poem showed up as a result…
Artist Homes
she kneels at the feet of Goddess green earth
he walks at her side by surf and by sky
she holds up a light for horror and mirth
he follows deep shadows toward fireflies
they bought a black house to match a black cat
get lost and recover to find themselves
he grills all the cheeses that make her so fat
gathers driftwood and stones for messy bookshelves
he loves to garden in an old straw hat
she loves pulling rainbows from truths and from tears
neighbors stop by to chit and to chat
of birthday cakes and rabbits’ ears
friends appear as by magic for work and for play
how this life works is a grand mystery
as we banish the wish for weekends and weekdays
powder paycheck dust into history
strangers delight in a joyous welcome
friends spend the night and make their own meals…
some say artist homes show up to heal
some say artist homes feel like heaven:
whether high upon nature and wonder and awe
or high on a dash of epoxy resin