Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Disasters, Delights and Other Detours - 53. Clay and Colorfast
Clay
Discarded and forgotten in the shed,
they lie as dusty bones of summers past
their once-bright flowers withered, crumbled, dead
and frozen by an icy winter’s blast;
now filled with dirt depleted of its worth,
mere chipped and damaged vessels made of clay,
they have no seed to bring new life its birth
or hasten beauty to the light of day.
So am I like that broken, useless pot,
reminder of those months beneath the sun
but now left in the dark to rust and rot,
no sunny days remaining left to run.
Yet make me clean with kisses in the dew
and I will spring to blossoming anew.
Colorfast
More colors than Crayola ever made
or fit into their very largest box
and crafted to depict each subtle shade
which nature to the artist’s eye unlocks
exist beneath the canopy above
and march beneath a flag of many hues,
for infinite of spectrum is the love
that anyone with eyes cannot confuse.
Those sad, self-sightless servants of a past
that never was the whitewash they recall,
will never see our dyes bound hard and fast
in living fabric woven for us all.
But stay with me beneath the blanket bright
and paint a bow of promise on the night.
- 3
- 5
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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