Poem: Never Too Late

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Thirty years old
I picked up a pencil
only spare doodles
as the baby slept.
I picked up a paintbrush
mixed paints
Those early canvases
were hardly masterpieces
done between play dates
and kindergarten antics.

Now fifty one
pencils at the ready
drawing characters
while the kids are at school.
Paintbrushes worn
hues dried on the palette
The recent canvases
still reflect my mind
done between crises
and midlife musings.

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