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Poetry | March 2008

Learning to Paint at Age 45

By Jayne Pupek

The goats on the canvas could be cows.
Look at their udders.

My son comes in; he points and laughs;
he wants to know what they are.

I ask him to tell me what they look like.
His answer is how I’ll decide.

His shrug tells me I should have gone abstract.
I imagine loading a brush, dropping paint

in patterns found in city landscapes or nature.
Cerulean peaks could be mountains

or a sofa, or even breasts. In abstract paintings,
details can be omitted. In other words,

you can leave off the nipples and still have breasts.
And they can be blue.

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