Is this not superfluous
secondary, if I am generous, to the existence of life day by day
for me, and most certainly for the one there walking the dirt road to their next meal.
Art. I tell myself I am here for a reason and I am living the route that reveals this, if not now, then somewhere yet down this road I travel.
I mean really, if my road and the one those filthy hungry feet of the other must follow daily to feed, if these roads never cross, have I lived a false mission?
Am I just telling myself I had some value, some worth, in this work of living with color and light and spreading it as best I can along the pathways I step into yet in truth this is an assuaging of a lack I feel yet can not name, for what is right in front of my toes.