Color Me In
I remember the days
when I was young
and crayons were my best friends.
Within my hands
they brought a plain piece of paper to life
coloring the outpouring of my imagination
with a simple stroke.
The deepest greens for the tallest trees.
The loudest yellows for the roundest suns.
The bluest blues for the vastest skies,
and the tannest tans for the fairest boys.
I drew everything in color
but myself
You see
out of the tan crayon
and the brown crayon
I found it hard to decide which was
most
ME.
The choice was
this sun-kissed tan
or doo-doo brown.
“beauty”
or “authenticity”
I did what I could to mix the two
hoping that I could lighten myself up
with a bit of hard work and modification
But after a while
I just stopped coloring myself in
my portraits often left dull
in landscapes illuminated
with hues galore.
—
Today I colored for the first time in a while
greeting my old friends with a gentle squeeze
between my fingers
making acquaintance with them once more.
I looked down
at the empty sheet of paper before me
and decided to draw
something beautiful.
I started with his eyes
big and full of joy.
I rounded the edges of his nose
nostrils presumably flared open
from an outburst of laughter.
before long
his frame was finished
and one final step remained.
I surveyed the box for the right tint.
There
in the same space I left it years ago
I found a brown crayon
broken from a fit of frustration
I’m sure.
I picked up one half
and started to color myself in.
