(Not quite) Yesterday’s Poem [9]

I wrote this a couple weeks ago, actually, and wasn’t sure about posting it. Insecurities and all that. But why not? It doesn’t make any sense, it won’t hurt anyone. Here’s a poem.

 

Yellow

 

If I said ‘yellow’

would you address my claim –

would you turn into a blue-sayer –

would you ever take me seriously again?

 

It is not ‘yellow’ of course –

nothing is ever yellow

and yellow is indeed nothing –

but could it be a color at all?

 

Could it be an absence of color

before it becomes an absence of words,

of feelings, of yellows?

 

Think about yellows, talk about yellows.

And lose sight

of meaning

as I repeat yellow unto you.

For it is not ‘yellow’

– it is LOVE.

 

 

 

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