A man 91 years old with a broken hip
barely able to get into the seat of his van
sits in a booth at an art show selling
his beautiful watercolor paintings
out of cardboard boxes for fifteen dollars.
They shame anything I could do.
Fat Dutch irises bloom on a sheet
splashed with color. Bouquets of
I Don’t Know What in round vases.
Landscapes and barns.
He can probably do them in his sleep
my neighbor says.
You’re 91 and you’re doing art shows?
I ask, incredulous.
Art shows have been good to me
he says and I, chastened, vow never
to complain of the heat, the rain,
the difficulty ever again.
Knowing full well that I will.
Forgiving myself in advance.
It feels a treat to have been at the scene of this poem! You said go to his booth and so off we went and were also humbled and impressed~
Me, too, humbled and impressed. Weren’t his paintings lovely? I’m glad you went over there and it was great seeing you and talking. So glad you came to the show.
You shared his story with us and we went on his adventure…….his beautiful white daisies now share my kitchen! Thank you!
I’m so glad! I posted a bit about him on my Facebook page, along with a scan of one of the paintings I bought. What an inspiration!