A poem about color and experience.
|I dreamed one night of a field of violets
under a golden sky;
leaves that glistened,
like frost on a winter cabbage.
In the morning,
a storm blew through our city.
The sky turned deep yellow.
Trees were splintered on the ground,
and homes I passed by all my life
and thought, one day.
The power was out for a week.
In temperatures close to a hundred.
Seven people died.
I never dream of violets anymore.