I.
On a royal blue day I feel like I am king. I wear a long velvet robe and sit on a throne under the stars.

II.
Green, oh, Green! Green days make me want to sleep on a bed of seaweed and hop from lily pad to lily pad.

III.
Brown is gooey. It’s like the inside of my grandmother’s cookies, fresh-baked from the oven.

IV.
On a white day my mind is blank as a piece of paper. I keep daydreaming about the clouds outside the classroom window.

V.
Neon pink is the color of my aunt’s nail polish. She puts it on every Saturday afternoon before her boyfriend picks her up.

VI.
Yellow is the color of butternut squash, sunflowers, and an old person’s teeth.

VII.
I’m bleeding. Red is plopping and splattering onto the floor below me.

VIII.
On a black day I frown and scowl at everyone I meet. My heart is full of tears that drip, drip, drip.

IX.
Orange makes me think of the boiling, sweaty sun that rises in the big, desert sky.

X.
Gray days make me want to curl up in bed and sleep. They make me feel like a black and white picture that’s been smudged or a thick sheet of ashes after a fire.

by Lulu, 4th grade

(based on the children’s book My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss)many-colored-days-cover.jpg

One Response to “My Colored Days”

  1. Poetry

    4 June 2007

    After the storm, my mine cleared.

    And a high wind arose and blew the tropics north.

    ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

    running quartz crystals through a blender.

    sand through your engines.

    bubbles in your bays.

    estuaries reaching out toward forbidden seas…

    sand through your eyes.

    %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

    5 June 2007

    Calm as baby’s breath

    as peaceful as the storm’s eye

    Clouds spread and drawn with rough strokes of stratospheric winds

    a warm and windy tropical day.

    ======================================

    7 June 2007

    Black water at dusk.

    Lighting on the horizon.

    Warm winds coming in across the darkening waters.

    A flash of white wings as an egret takes flight.

    And Thunder like God clearing his throat.

    {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{

    8 June 2007

    Morning star in the still of the clear, dark waters.

    a sky as clear eyed as a young girl.

    bruised and tattered storm remnants limp off in the gathering light.

    Reply

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