For Kathleen

—Renée Schell

You are not wearing the sweater
the color of raspberries.
That was New Years Eve, my house.
Clinking glasses, rising bubbles.

But that is how I see you now,
swathed in the red of berries
ripe and warm from the sun.
A crayon color from your
childhood. I see
the Christmas tree, the wrapping
paper. The new bathrobe.
The oblong box of 48 colors.
There it is

It will be mystified when
it hears the news.
It will be shocked.
It will break in two.

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s