Yellow is
a high-minded mood
the extravagance of sunlight
to be touched--
before long
by colors of play
___
It is of hair
tendering golden sun
brown pennies for lemonade
__
Yellow is
bumping into the screaming end
of a lit
cigarette
___
Yellow is
dripping from the eaves
onto an empty soup can
___
It is
spindling sparrow song
from highest perch on roof
his pitch can aspire
___
Yellow is
in rattled doorknob
an infant's sweet
voice wanting – in
Reciting menu
above mattress
edges into sleep
two dark eyes
plead
for yellow
waking
Mother into morning--
“juice.... eggs”
Yellow ___
is
opening a car door
at the shore's
unmistakable!
Smells of life
warmth and breeze
touching strings
those kites
of sense
harmonics
above the tone
octaves of excitement
to see to hear to touch to taste
to know
again –
the ocean of my mother
as she calms the waves,
ignores the pouts of us
with stuff to lug out to the beach
the towels, pails and shovels
Picnic basket, cooler
lotion, comic books, her magazines
Mom looks out
She is a good swimmer
Her glasses, dark
Preside
reflecting beauty –
“Take your sister's hand.”
Yellow are the squeals
Feet thrashing sand
of cannot wait
For my daughter, Phoebe and my mother.