Painting the living room

I have, for several days now, been painting my living room. My arms are sore and I am tired. I look forward to finishing this project so that my life can resume. In any case, I thought posting a poem about painting would be appropriate, and one that features cave people even more so since I can't remember the last time I showered or shaved my legs. You're welcome.

Painters

In the cave with a long-ago flare
a woman stands, her arms up. Red twig, black twig, brown twig.
A wall of leaping darkness over her.
The men are out hunting in the early light
But here in this flicker, one or two men, painting
and a woman among them.
Great living animals grow on the stone walls,
their pelts, their eyes, their sex, their hearts,
and the cave-painters touch them with life, red, brown, black,
a woman among them, painting.

(Muriel Rukeyser, From The Collected Poems of Muriel Rukeyser, 2005 University of Pittsburgh Press.)