a hot Louisiana summer day
finds my mother and grandmother
whipping up paint fumes with their brushes
as they slather the front doors in liquid chroma
the house's mouth is gaped wide
inhaling all the scents of the sub-tropical breeze
and they inhale it too
about as much as they inhale the joy
of each others company
with chit-chat and laughter
the day passes swiftly
the tedious work is made light
and the house's entrance gilded in warmth
Nika McGuin
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gilded-doors/
