Author teaches painting to children in the neighborhood. Lagro, QCChildren, children where did they come from? And would I care?
And I painted and painted, the canvas would take me days its size.
Over my shoulder peeped innocent young faces; met me with smile.
You like to paint? A chorus of cheers filled the air. Exhilarating.
Here is red, this blue, this yellow. I poured each separately - now.
Red and yellow - orange; blue and yellow - green. Where is brown?
Black? Indigo? Please make a rainbow. Make a sea, a mountain.
I felt like a tree with children perched on my branches. How lovely.
And into the afternoon and evening we painted as if there was no end.
Children are like that. Art is like that, too. That's why they go together.
And we made the fields green, the trees bloom, rivers full, the sea roar.
And the past is back, the forgotten remembered, the old young again. ~