by Richard L. Provencher

His paintbrush sweeps as a
rainbow across the
flower box,
follows fine grain of
wood, wrists firm, strokes as
feathers, a smile
teaching me.

Shoppers hurry along Esplanade
street, afraid of walnut stain
on fancy duds, his
brush of movement
sureness in slender fingers
strong from practice
not caring about stares, just
glad for a springtime job

snickers and shouts call, "Hey
retard! Missed a spot!"
meanness raw
cutting to the quick.

But I know better, he's a worker
been at it for two hours
without even a coffee break
his patient flick of wrist
creating its own pace, back and
forth then back again, his
grin coming a mile a minute

there's drool on his chin, doesn't
give a darn. He's happy. I'm jealous.

Richard L. Provencher 2007

Richard enjoys writing poems; many of which have been published in Print and Online. He and his wife, Esther are also co-authors of stories and a print novel. They are "born again" Christians and very busy in their church, Abundant Life Victory International, in Bible Hill, Nova Scotia.

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