A PALER SHADE OF BLUE

[opening]
The morning slips in quietly—
that thin gold right before the sky wakes up.
A blackbird tries a note outside my window,
testing the air
like it isn’t sure San Francisco wants to listen.
A Muni bus sighs down Church Street,
the long exhale it gives
before it makes up its mind to leave,
and the sound lands in my chest
like it remembers something about me.
[section I]
Frost hesitates on the window,
and the radiator clicks—
same nervous rhythm as last February.
There’s a coffee ring on the sill
I’ve stopped pretending I’ll clean;
some things just stay
because letting them go requires more energy than I have.
The light touches everything—
warm, but the air still tastes cold.
I don’t know why,
but that contradiction feels true.
[section II]
Your ghost moves through the hallway,
quiet, careful,
like it doesn’t want to wake the new version of me
I’m trying to build.
You always said the fog made this city
feel like a half-finished sentence.
I hear that now—
in the rooms, in the walls,
in the parts of me still rewriting themselves.
And it’s strange
what I miss
and what I don’t.
[refrain — soft center of the song]
I’m stitched together by mornings,
threads uneven,
pulled tight by hands
that aren’t steady yet.
Not whole,
but not gone—
just learning the way light moves through me now.
Learning how to breathe
in a paler shade of blue.
[section III]
The fire in me is small—
more ember than flame—
but I keep my palms close.
It’s warm enough
to make me think hope might return quietly,
unannounced,
like someone slipping into a room mid-song.
[closing]
Downstairs,
someone’s burned their toast again.
Somehow that helps.
The city stirs,
and I follow—
slow, uneven,
but moving
toward that paler shade of blue.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

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Ashley Avatar
May 18, 2025 at 1:53 PM
Im starting to go through your poems. This one is bloody lovely. it has sharp imagery.
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