I once saw an empty powder blue wheelbarrow. It belonged to Sally Avery, the
painter. This was in Woodstock at her house. She was 98 or so at the time,
radiant, still painting. I never forget the powder blue wheelbarrow in the
driveway in profile against a baby-blue, painted wall. She was 98 or so at
the time.
An anonymous man in the neighborhood comes to a quit. The arms have fallen
off his wheelbarrow. The barrow is rust. Only the rubber tire is full. A man
in the neighborhood comes to a quit. He refuses to drop his last load. The
various pieces of lumber cut, broken and useless. A full barrow and he
does not care. The pale shock of light across the wood appears sufficient.
He has come to a still quit. Basking. Anonymous.
<em>Guerrero Street, westside, near 19th Street, San Francisco.</em>
Photograph of the wheelbarrow (with this text) is at my blog:
http://stephenvincent.net/blog/
Stephen Vincent
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