Ode to Yellow

Ode to Yellow

To yellow paint upon my counter

The red is dead and it must go.

The prep is set

It must be followed

Wash, sand,wipe with solvent x2.

The fantasy is resplite

Reality is upon us.

I hang over eighteen feet

Of hard ground

Upside down and through the lifelines

My thoughts are few

“don’t fall”

“can’t work with broken bones”.

Al sands standing on the scaffold.

I have suddenly developed a phobia

Of heights.

I can’t go up, so I hang over the edge.

Yellow seems so far away….

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