Poetry

"The Autobiography of the Color Yellow"
​By Rose Maria Woodson
I have called spines & sunrises my own,
marked roads & lanes for all lost
in the fog of vanity, thinking they knew
their own way.
I have slept on orchids,
the silk of petals sublime slipping
me from symmetry to subtlety,
easy as babies’ breath.
I have danced on top of candles,
piled darkness in corners
like nothing more
than dirty laundry.
I have painted peppers & corn,
posed in pastas & salads,
drenched myself in adoring ummms.
I have tattooed papers &
pages of favorite books, marked
time’s passing so quietly
on cherished passages.
I have spent myself on feathers,
soared brightly with finches & orioles
over budding trees, falling leaves,
serendipity over all momentary importance,
suspended in an extraordinary grace
of distance, delighted, knowing
I am not done.