Yellow

When the indifferent world awoke this morn
I reached to your sallow hand resting gently on your breast,
rising and falling with each shallow breath.
The creamy silk of your kimono
spread across your refuge,
an amber pyre igniting your shrinking frame.
I remember the rustling of your saffron skirts,
a memory fading over the years,
the amber glow slowly dying to my ears.
I am anxious that this last golden sunrise
not be remembered 
by your diminishing countenance
but by your luscious laughter
filing the room,
halcyon rose petals
steeping the air with
with your sweetness.





Author’s Note:
This is a beginning sketch of a poem I started at Wednesday Afternoon Writers today.  Our prompt was to choose our number which corresponded to a color. We wrote about the color for ten minutes listing images that color brought to mind when seeing it through the five senses.  After that we finished our writing using the ideas in a piece.  My color was yellow. I did not use much from the list, but the list led me to the idea of using yellow words in a poem dealing with death.

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