Our theme for the month of February is “color.”
blue, there is a song for you
ink on a pin
blue has never been my color,
never been the feeling that
chills or lingers
behind my days.
mine are peaches, cream,
rosebright hydrangea days when
most everything is good and right.
i am more sun than moon,
more front lawn than cool forest.
so, i’m very glad to know you
whose blue hue is
there near the surface
more often than not.
it’s not that i’m glad of it, exactly—
it’s more that i love how
your blue forces you to cling to
to scramble for
to sweet savor
only what’s real and really necessary.
it’s more that i love how
it makes you love
the world the hard way.
so i’m running the
blue butter yarn through my
fingers as i thumb through my days;
my mind on you and
yours in the blue
i sink into ink blue music
jesus christ I’m so blue all the time
prefer it, even,
precisely because it’s not really my color
but i still want to know how it feels,
blue lips, blue veins
what it’s like to be navy
or periwinkle
or the color of so much water.
i thought i was doing fine / ‘til i knew black was blue
sometimes i sing along for you
in case maybe you
can’t
right now
and sometimes i sing along
like a prayer for you
sometimes the blue’s just a passing bird /
and why can’t that always be?
my blue bucket of gold /
lord, touch me with lightning
i’m thinking
of above and below
and the beautiful way you
make us all feel known
and i wonder at the way we’re
cut so differently.
we’re cloth from different bolts,
your pattern printed so faintly
it took years to read,
and mine so clear
that i ended up
right back where i started.
and yet here we both are,
trying to stand
at the front of a room,
trying to teach someone else about
our true blue or green
or chocolate cake or poem
or small town on the iowa prairie
or just how
to love
someone else.
it’s curious, the way we’re all tinted.
anyway, i still worry about you
though you’ve moved through
the blue ocean tide that pulled
for a while.
but mostly i worry
that maybe i’m borrowing trouble,
embarrassed, a bit, that i
only sing the blue passing bird song
alone in the car,
probably don’t tell you enough
how glad i am that your
black became blue became bits
of sunlight on wet pavement
they say
absence makes the heart grow
fonder
but also more
hesitant,
you know?
so i promised you
i’d write a letter.
blue
here is a song for you
ink on a pen
Abby Zwart (’13) teaches high school English in Grand Rapids, Michigan. She spends her free time making lists of books she should read, cooking, and managing the post calvin.
3 Comments
Submit a Comment
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Beautiful, Abby. I love the new song, and the echoes.
Oh my. I see what you’re doing here. *hands to heart* *grateful sigh*
Blue is a nice transitory. I like the tension in this one. Nice poetry, as always.