May Swenson

Painting the Gate

I painted the mailbox. That was fun. 
I painted it postal blue. 
Then I painted the gate. 
I painted a spider that got on the gate. 
I painted his mate. 
I painted the ivy around the gate. 
Some stones I painted blue, 
and part of the cat as he rubbed by. 
I painted my hair. I painted my shoe. 
I painted the slats, both front and back, 
all their beveled edges, too. 
I painted the numbers on the gate-- 
I shouldn't have, but it was too late. 
I painted the posts, each side and top, 
I painted the hinges, the handle, the lock, 
several ants and a moth asleep in a crack. 
At last I was through. 
I'd painted the gate 
shut, me out, with both hands dark blue, 
as well as my nose, which, 
early on, because of a sudden itch, 
got painted. But wait! 
I had painted the gate. 

spoken =Tansy Mattingly