Sunday, April 26, 2026

The Conspiracy of Colours

I heard someone say
they are terrible at yellows.

I boasted to myself, I do okay.
 
Barefoot in flaxen fields, gold,
honey, dandelion, mustard, buttery.
Then there is lemony lime called 
chartreuse. I am sure you've seen
a yellow that’s nearly green.
 
Emerald, forest, jade and pine
juniper, moss, sea foam, and brine.
Just as you revel in how green you feel
green quietly turns to teal.
 
That’s the beginning of the blues.
Azure, cerulean, electric, turquoise,
hold on to the sky, the steel, the poise.
 
Before long, strung on the colour wheel,
you tell yourself: this is life, deal. Deal.
Trapped by yellows and wracked by blues
Get off, walk away. But first find your shoes.

 


4 comments:

  1. This is a delicious poem, Anannya :-)

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  2. ADG, the artist in you sees all those colours and the tints and hues. Lovely poem!

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  3. What an exquisite poem, and so much music (and joy) in it! Thank you.

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