I clutch my wooden paint brush,
newspapers cover the tiled floor.
To the blue plastic easel
to the blank paper,
I lift my gaze.
These thoughts, these wild dancers
whirl and spin,
and gain speed:
sunlight and sandy beaches,
soap bubbles and swimming pools,
bubble baths and baby shampoo,
band-aids and ballet shoes,
wax crayons and wooden toys,
wild flowers and wet grass.
Stiff bristles soften in water,
ideas lift from the tip of my brush
thoughts scatter across the page:
these water-colored memories.
Satisfied, I unclip the painting.
My wild dancer thoughts
tiptoe behind the curtain.