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Today's Colors

Updated: Dec 30, 2018

The black of burnt toast and the see-through gray smoke  flying up through the slots. The stench of distraction.

The grackle deep green of our back yard, the birdbath fluttersparkling with customers.

The soft crinkled yellow of six roses, too long in the vase, trying to stand up straight. But  faded blonde heads weigh down their stems, and like stooped old ladies at church, they wait for  someone to come get them.

The white of this paper, and its gentle blue lines that I’ve been  following since I was young.  And the red line at the left margin.  A guidepost: Keep going, but return  to this point each time you get a little further down. The page’s way of saying,  “I’m still here. I’ve got you. You’re good.”

The hard dark of the house, once I’ve  turned out the lights. And if I give it  a minute, the softer dark that  ushers me to bed.


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