field brown is dingy
grass is achingly green…
Colors
2 tastes like sun-warmed
garden peas scooped directly from pod…
it’s so loud, I can’t hear everything
at once, the yellow is thrumming, insisting…
What American novelist (who also penned short stories) wrote about the fantastic colors being burned out of the world, leaving the dull, cerebral matter behind?…
that’s what I tell myself
when I hyperventilate
when confronted with red and black
sharpness
black widow spider, or daggers…
so, heads up,
if you cry,
it releases the ghosts
that were holding…
I stood up too fast
or I crouched too long
either way, the periphery
went gray…
cello
strings vibrate at the touch
of skilled hands
suddenly I am astral projecting…
what color to brighten
black? what else but green?
it made no cerebral sense,
but as soon as I touched…
I can taste the creamsicle
layer
The yellow is smooth
silk on glass
If I reach out, …
Daily Poets 