|Prompt from Magpie Tales|
On the 'to do list' cleaning up,
especially that old mess of painting things.
Dried up rollers, crusted brushes, empty cans,
colors layered upon each other, dried hard.
Reaching for the box I find them calling to me.
Pulling me back to them, reaching back to stories.
Painted memories. The blue from a boy's room.
His first color choice to make it his own 'big boy' room.
The green from our bedroom, willow leaf green.
Perfectly calm, and feeding the passion in us.
Ranchwood, a warm brown grey like driftwood,
paired with cedar when you made the bathroom a spa.
Arroyo red, rich and vibrant, pulling us together in blood,
The color of brick, blood, and of together fighting to love.
Cafe capp, lightest coffee colored just for me the java girl.
Strong coffee with lots of cream, and sugar too.f
The colors of our first home together, as a family.
The dried paints on those rollers and brushes are memories.
Me doing trim with no tape, mistress of the fine brush.
You, zooming and slopping with the rollers. Messy man!
Wiping up paint spots, hand prints on t-shirts, laughing aloud.
Looking back we see each painted wall as much more.
They hold the memories of love, borderline hate, passion and fears.
Baby cries and wet dog splats, calves leaning on them wet.
Each wall holds a part of us, painted in and painted over.
Fresh coats to brighten the scarred spots, scratches and dings.
A truck crash here from the hotwheels race gone awry.
Scratches here from a poorly thrown frisbee on a rainy day.
Here a stain from being 'painted' with sunscreen in baby hands.
There oily frame, shaped like your back strong and leaning hard.
I carefully put the box of dried up rollers and crusted brushes back.
They'll be the last things I take when we move from here.
This, our first home as a family, painted in memories.
This, our unexpected blessing of life, love and laughter.
You'll ask if I cleaned up that box, and I'll laugh.
I'll say, "No" and you'll sigh, "Why?" and we'll make more...memories.
Copyright 2011 Shanyn Silinski