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Colors of a relationship
by Kay Weeks

We chose with guarded passion, not desire,
dim gray within our bedroom, same without.
A few red accents to be sure–No fire!
No hue to blame; ignite, or nurture doubt.

Gray skies in affirmation don't disclose
some quality in us that we must hold–
some kind of open field, I suppose,
where words can gallop; never mind the fold!

The crows announced a change in our blue-green;
from wind-streaked beaches, carousels and such,
to raw-white snow–one field of freeze–who knows
why focus turns to blur, and love's between?

Those lemons singing yellow on our plates
are molding at the edges. Sleep, it's late.


 

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