The color
pink speaks out
of turn, interrupts red
with a white streak
of thought
grenades. It rains.
Lightning decorates
the lilac sky. Waiting
for a serious dose
of thunder—there is
no blue.
wave
Wheel
“He who works with his hands is a laborer.
He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman.
He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.”
― Saint Francis of Assisi
She wants to be
the one who creates
art without using
her hands—wants to be
all heart. When she gets
what she wants, it’s time
to recalibrate
the colors—blue for logic,
green for emotion, yellow
for rigor, red
for everything else.
Feud
If I disown the color green,
how will I remember how to climb
a tree? If it’s blue
I say is no longer mine, I might go
blind. Black and white
cannot rescue us now.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 