The Fire

The fire He stood in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water looking out of the window, he saw across the fjord on the slopes to the blue mountain the had snow on top, a farm house burning bright in the long spring afternoon. Putting his glass down and when looking again the fire had stopped by itself, instead a milk-maid came out of the barn, carrying a stainless bucket in her strong hand and he thought of Paula Rego the great Portuguese artist, her women were strongly built, had strong arms with lust in faces, not so much beauty but very human His favorite painting is of a daughter polishing her father's boots the love in her face shines through glossy as the boots. Mind, the art center has a cafe and sells exceedingly good cakes.