Once upon a time there was a village
of damp grey houses, forgotten and far
away from happy cities and towns.
We need to do something, said the
villagers, Or we shall all
die young and old and miserable. They
put their money together and bought
some bright paints for the houses
so the community could shine. They
emptied the tubes onto palettes
and thickly pasted the oils
onto walls and roofs and doors. Everyone
felt like an artist that day, and city-folk
passing by on trains could not help
but stare at such a picture in the distance.