Unstaging the Stages of Life

As I sit here looking at my blank canvass of white, I start to think back about why I started to paint. Sitting outside, one day, four years ago, in the light, I remember the sunset as it began to faint. I wanted so much to never forget the scene, That I grabbed a piece of cloth and picked up a brush. I didn’t know, at the time, what it would all mean, But I wanted to do it right, so I didn’t rush. The colors came out so very vivid and clear, And it almost seemed as if it painted itself. I had never thought about art until just that year. I don’t know why some talent stays hidden on a shelf. So, now in my fifties, I meet with a group of friends, And we sit and paint, unfolding the stages of life. I wonder what is next for me, up around the bend. Who knows, maybe I’ll become as famous as my wife.