by Ruth Baxendale
Fell out with a friend once
Over the value of art.
She said it was one of life’s essentials.
I, struggling to feed my children
And about to lose my home,
Thought it was a nice-to-have,
But can live without it.
These days, I have
A different perspective.
If looking at a beautiful picture
Renews your soul
I can see how that could be useful
We bind ourselves and each other
In so many ugly things, places, faces.
Art is not how we live