poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “crayons”

a box of twenty-four

fresh as a new beginning
one sheet of paper & two sides
call them what you will
if anything they are possibilities

on the one side I put to work
a box of 24 crayolas
creating a world all unto my own
using blue violet for the wind
and apricot for the sun
shadowing my eyelids with dandelion
all the while eating mac & cheese

at the ripe young age of five or six
I’ve never considered the other side
something without color
no yellows or blues or reds
not a simple flower showing off
multiple shades of cerulean
properly supported by a forest green stem

at some point you flip to the B-side
a sea of off-whiteness washing over
a series of black speckles
just begging to be discovered

november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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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