Gareth Culshaw lives in Wales. His first collection of poetry is The Minerout (2018) by Futurecycle. In 2020, his second collection, called Shadows of Tryfan is released. He is currently on an MFA at Manchester Met. His biggest poetry fans are his two dogs, Jasper & Lana.
I flipped the lid the toffee scent of oil
based paint swam up my nose.
How it seems all familiar repeating teenage days.
Stirring it with a stick, clearing dust off the step.
Creosote on the fence panels, masonry paint on back
yard bricks. Hammerite on the garden gate.
That garden wall with the bulge you said was there
because of him next door. Forbes. Pushing his side back
as weed roots spread through mortar joints, frost breaking
the English bond. We always had plans to fix it. Never did.
Hands in pockets watching, I brushed slowly.
Occasional jutting of your false teeth.
Straight backed as always, the aching muscles from
digging drains. Wellies deep in mud and rain.
Today I’m alone, colouring stone.
One thought on “Brush Strokes”
You achieved this and it is good.