Red is not of anger
But a sound to abide
While you feel the labour pain
Of the woman on the fifth floor
Near the summer-dry creek
Yellow is for squirrel bark
When high noon is all sun
All flame, without the sound
Of any shade
A broken violin in the trash bin
And the road is again all green
Each cord curled as alphabet
And a lunar calendar of days
There are shoes near the pool
Which have walked the dusty trails
Where elegance lost its colour
To a spectrum
In melody
August 20, 2019
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2019
Note:
I wrote these lines influenced by a painting by Wassily Kandinsky titled “Yellow,
Red and Blue”
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