Friday, October 22, 2010


29. a poem in which you use three
different words for the same colour


It's always a bolt
from the blue, that
cloudy estuary, nearer
to sea than salt
of the earth, and
the baby blue sky
across which clouds
are draped, all cotton
wool and torn lace.
Their aqua t-shirts
match, and he's just
tall enough to lean
his cheek onto her
hair, fit her into 
his armpit's curve.
They stand, my two
descendants, raising
my spirits with those
vibrant smiles,mirrors
of my direct stare
affirming a world
where there ain't 
no room for the blues.

1 comment:

  1. Oh, I want to see this photo! And yet I have seen it, in your words. :)