Thursday, December 14, 2017

Color Poem #32

when the boxes are
taken down from
the high closet shelf
and the lids lifted off

one is full of fragile glass balls and things in
shades of gold and green and white and red

while another abounds with spheres of
pinks and purples and silvers and blues

I’ve got no memory of
putting them away by color
though that sounds like something I’d do
but I don’t think I did or at least not on purpose

I suspect my hands of
sorting them into color families
a valorous box and a majestic box
without my mind’s volition

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