There, on my sideboard,
Is a collection of artist's
Paintbrushes, the ones
I haven't used for a year.
...
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And why aren't you still painting, David? I can already vividly see your still life painting. It's as beautiful as your poem!
I need another room for painting, the table has paint on it & floor standing easel gets in the way. Storing paintings difficult too. Poetry is much easier.
Old things are not just things. They have memories attached to them. You can't just let go of them.
It's amazing how you have been able to turn objects around you into poetry. From the mundane and ordinary objects come the most beautiful thoughts. Bravo!
Brilliant poem, somber and poignant with a wistful vibrancy
Unlike humans there is no Animosity, no stress, no Desire and no hatred as They patiently wait ~ written beautifully; nice to read the poetic theme