COLOR

Through a charcoal grey suburban sky,

Images of life that pass me by,

From the hard black steaming asphalt road,

To the steel grey grass that just got mowed,

And the little white house clean and neat,

The hot bright pavement beneath my feet,

I look to the east and squint my eyes,

Long silver clouds float through endless skies,

I look to the west, over the pines,

Flat grey mountains making pastel lines.

Through a royal blue suburban sky,

Images anew that pass me by,

From the cool yellow striped asphalt road,

To the sea green grass that just got mowed,

And the scarlet red house clean and neat,

The gritty brown sand beneath my feet,

I look to the east and squint my eyes,

Baby blue clouds float through endless skies,

I look to the west, over the pines,

Purple mountains making pastel lines.

Poetry