Tag Archives: Colour


We didn’t know each other
as children. I was six
when you were born
in a city not far from
the 400 acres
on which I was raised.
You were the youngest child
of a doctor and your skin
was brown like cafe latte
and I was pink like roses
and we were separated
by the sharp edges of
colour and class
in the time before people
could travel those things.

But still
there was the summer
I sang a solo
at the Anglican church
and every note shimmered
and the August light passed
iridescent through stained
glass onto the wooden floor
and I was

I knew you then,
my love, even though
we would not meet
for eighteen years.


Red Header

In the golden summer
between his junior and senior year
a boy from our school
had an accident.
A few months later
he died.

This is not his story
but he was a joy-filled boy
who chose his own adventure.

He knew how to play.

The day after his Memorial
I dyed my hair red.

My hair stylist asked
{most sincerely}
if this would be okay with my boss.

I should say my hair is VERY red.

But there are moments
that change

Every particle
that dances
inside me

Every atom
me with
songs of
do not wait.

red hair circle