I have always been yellow
never could do a cart-wheel, never wanted to try
I have always been yellow
closing my eyes in scary movies
refusing sleep overs where Frankenstein was invited
or risk of black
I have always been yellow
afraid of heights, edges and the Grand Canyon
Someone once offered me green, trying to cure my yellow
I failed that too
I have always been yellow
running under blue skies to reach safety of four walls
a book and lemonade
I knew yellow was my color loving the warmth of sunlight and daffodils
then one day yellow changed my life forever
walking to town with a friend and a dog named Duchess
it was three miles, a dirt road - I have always been yellow
then everything turned red - a fast car, squeal of tires and a dog turning red
she was dying - the driver placed her in the car
drove me, her back to the farm
she was leaving me red, it ran from her mouth
she died in my arms
I held her - lifted her, carried her to the pasture
buried her there, placed a cross
to forever remember
Duchess
She was yellow.....
bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011
Duchess was a cattle dog. a yellow and white collie mix -she was a working piece of art herding cows...bkm
photo by Monte Morton
Oh! this is so sad...almost in tears! She will always be yellow...beautifully sad poem.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant! The thread of "I have always been yellow" that runs through makes the stream of read that much more powerful. I know this person very well.
ReplyDeleteFreudian slip in there, I think.
ReplyDeleteAnd now Dutchess will live on in the minds and memories of all who read your beautiful poem.
ReplyDeletethank you Louise, Kat and Bumpa T -- some memories always remain this resurfaced in the rain....bkm
ReplyDeleteQuite moving and very well done. Your palette has the three primary colors and the primary emotions in just the right combinations.
ReplyDeleteI very much like how you did this. Nice word play with color. And stories of animals dying... ohhhh. gets me everytime.
ReplyDeletedang bk...making me cry...
ReplyDeleteI have always been yellow, and a dog named Ravel died bloodily in my arms, and somehow those things made me voyage pen on paper rather than actual sails to the wind. But there's no yellow in your writing -- damage makes the words fierce. A very well-done, haunting exhumation of memory. - Brendan
ReplyDeleteWow! Very powerful. Thanks!
ReplyDelete