Emily Winters                                                                                             

Yellow

Little pockets of sunshine,

Splatters of paint traveling through the city streets,

Twirling and swirling and spinning in the deluge,

Sliding through the fingers with all the grace and pose of music box dancers.

The chalk running away in the rain,

Smearing sad clowns and the day washing away…

Racing on the pavement, the rainbow shimmers with the iridescence of elusiveness,

All the can’t catch, can’t see of the shadow mermaid as the colors converge with the asphalt.

The pitter-patter above our heads,

Clasping fingers safe within our bed,

The rushing people and the gushing brook –

We watch with muffled laughter as the storm washes all their papers and umbrellas downstream.