The Colors Are Off This Season
by Sarah Hannah
I don't want any more of this mumble—
Orange fireside hues,
Fading sun, autumnal tumble,
Stricken, inimitable—Rose.
I want Pink, unthinking, true.
Foam pink, cream and coddle,
Miniskirt, Lolita, pompom, tutu,
Milkshake. Pink without the mottle
Or the dying fall. Pink adored, a thrall
So pale it's practically white.
A tinted room beneath a gable—
Ice pink, powder, feather-light—
Untried corner of the treble.
I want the lift, not the lower.
Bloodless pink stalled at girl,
No weight, no care, no hour.
Link: ::: wood s lot ::: "the fitful tracing of a portal".
Obituary: Sarah Hannah, 40; teacher, poet known for incisiveness, fervence - The Boston Globe.
Bottom link also via Wood's Lot.
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