It's time to paint again

I smiled.

"It's time to start

painting again,"

you said.

Usually the leap

towards labour doesn't

tug at me

like this, but

preparing another

room for one more

beating heart,

for one more

smiling face,

for one more

interminable love,

well,

this is not labour.

I feel the potential

growing within me

to face this

with power and

conviction, as I

run my hand across

the rainbow of

samples.

Copyright Catherine Young, 2011.

Eat

When those sunny days turned

into fall, and you remained

firmly by my side,

I knew that I could devour

life again - digest the seconds and

minutes and hours yet

unlived, and allow the

sour sweetness of

disbelief to saturate my

plain existence. The leaves fell around

us, and we never faltered, refusing

to hit the ground with them -

those maples and oaks

and birches, all

encrusting the stake we made. This,

I mistakenly thought, was

all for nought.

I feel fate laughing at me still, and my

foolishness, long since departed. So,

let use eat up this life, drink in

ourselves, our souls, and

relish in the swollen

contentment of our

bellies until we are

overfilled.

Copyright, Catherine Young, 2011.