For The Sunday Whirl: Wordle 57
Hands on hips, she knew
deep in her marrow
that time for grief was finished.
Now, massive chore
to start over must begin.
Looked for help in world
of colors: bright golden yellow
of crocuses, like thick round dabs
in child’s finger painting;
or secret truths of blue constantly
beckoning beyond window.
Perhaps clatter of single blood-red flower
rising in midst of dulled greens
and browns might shatter
overly long, self-imposed
Elizabeth Crawford 5/20/12
Notes: Last Wednesday, underwent first of two cataract surgeries. The world is new and colors are definitely not what they used to be.