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i want to tell you a secret

she said, her auburn highlights

burning in the breeze

i know the way of men.

ok, i thought. and what of that?

she popped a bubble

and ran away,

the gauze of her smile

forever now etched on my mind.

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if i could be any color

i’d choose a shade from either end

of the day’s curtain.

those wake-up hues of dawn

the soothing, sometimes fiery

purples, reds, and golds @ dusk.

i’d be infused with the promise

of a new day & the contentment

of twenty-four hours well-lived.

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Pensive.

Like steel. Or foam rollers.

Stripped of any

future

or stability

or charismatic wanderings.

Yes. Her life was in a pickle.

She just had to dill deal with it.

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Red sun shines dimly on the figure eight of your paratrooper heart.

Orange disc-shaped diamonds sparkle amid your camouflaged Thoughts of Rage.

“A twist, please. And a strawberry cone for my friend here.”

Wander, wander. Speak your truth.

Sing of pomegranates for peace.