I Carry With Me Color
I Carry With Me Color
If you stare at me long enough your eyes will burn hot ember
Until they burn into flaky cinders.
Cinders blown with the wind to the bag
Slung across my shoulder.
A bag the color of an artist’s palette
Filled with salmon pinks and indigo violets.
I carry with me colors for many different occasions,
And sometimes secrets.
My marigold yellows are for sunshiny days
And kids contagious laughter.
I carry with me streaks of burning cinnamon red
For lovers to embrace and ponder.
Sometimes deep within my rainbow bag splashes wet sea foam green
And blue for those in need of salty tears and a good cry.
You might ponder why I carry this palette of colors weighing me down
Day after day.
That is simple, Color defines us.
We carry colors with us every day,
Sometimes they weigh us down in murky umber black puddles,
Sometimes they lift us up to the lavender sky.
You ask me what I carry with me?
I carry with me all of your wasted color in my rainbow bag.
One day, these broken cinders will be ready
When you come back for them,
And that is when you will see your own colors
Floating around you.
Copyright © Willow Smith | Year Posted 2009
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