The Color of Things

I have been writing more poetry lately. Apologies to my non-poetry friends :)


On a Tuesday Leaving

You think you know
the color of things— a maple
in the back yard is gray rivers
where gray squirrels go boating
towards a blue bay...

then the world turns,

you want to run into the house,
pull somebody off the couch,
drag him (her) to see that the maple
isn't gray at all, and red squirrels
are racing to tips of bright arteries,
bleeding towards the end of day.


Girl in the Orange Coat photo, by L.L. Barkat.