poetry by j matthew waters

twenty-four crayons

staring at a blank white wall
you remember how once
it was covered with rainbows
and parrots and sunshine
apple trees in full bloom
and children pointing up at the sky
clouds and birds and kites
poking their imaginations

it’s saturday morning
you’re sitting in the conservatory
patiently waiting for sun
to eclipse the treeline
casting her magical rays
on your box of twenty-four crayons
anxious to start replacing
that which was washed away

july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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3 thoughts on “twenty-four crayons

  1. Shasta on said:

    Love this, J.

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