What do you call the color of sunlight on snow?
A whiter white with flecks of sparkling prisms?
Bright silver with contrasting greys of depth?
Where corkscrewed plow has churned, it
looks like chopped gunmetal-colored cement.
Fast-moving rust jerks, robotic in her search
for milquetoast bits of kernels in mostly empty
sunflower shells. Reds hit and run above her
in hypnotizing rhythm. Tuxedo-ed chickadees
compete with turquoise-blue jays as alternates.
Networked shadows supervise from above,
complicating but never occluding sky’s hue.
My pasty face sits with theirs, striped and masked,
looking through milky, water-stained windows,
dreaming yet again of yellow, orange, and green.
Mish is today’s host of dVerse’ Poetics. Mish says:
Write a poem from the perspective of a color and post it to your blog.