the still life
I painted at sixteen
... all this time
hanging in my parents’ house,
soaking up their hues
—Atlas Poetica, 22, summer 2015
Now it's hanging in my house. (Don't tell anyone, but my teacher helped me a little with the fine-tuning.)
Finally, a year after moving our father out of his large old house, going through it with a fine-toothed comb, then spiffing it up and listing it, it looks like we are close to a sale, crossing fingers.