Online Journal
Sculpture of a woman
But wait, no.
If I am looking at her back?
Still right is right
and left is left,
twisting one way
looking the other.
Growing, leafing out,
trying to reach the sky.
Hurrying
with plans before winter,
to survive.
I want to cheer for her reach,
wonder about her search,
her ambition,
her goal,
her hope.
The clouds behind her,
what colors would they be,
could they be?
Probably not light gray and dark grey
if this was real life.
But the feelings that come with
the search,
the ambition,
the hope,
the stretch,
would have colors of their own, certainly.
I won’t settle for gray.
I’ll paint them myself.
Earth black,
trunk brown to umber
branches the same.
Leaves dark green.
Blossoms if any,
white.
I’ll put a sunrise behind:
Wisps of pink
melting to orange.
At the horizon
a sliver of yellow fire—
Dawn.
-Carolyn Healy