All of living is an art – messy,
brilliant, painted and repainted. Life
spills a deep red wine across canvas
meant for greater things. What
can you do? Mop the spill, find
colors to complement or
conceal. Take some old advice,
paint it black like some soggy velvet
Elvis. Wiser hands might braid
twine to gold in a day’s time,
weave bits of beach glass sharp
with sparkle. Or blot the mess
in coffee grounds rich as earth half
fallow in the winter. And here,
my canvas sings in colors high
and bright; a soprano hidden
in the paint.
Daughter of Discord 