Quilt patches overlay
black and white pen and ink.
Muted, barren interior. Starkly
aching to color it.
Death does away with worry.
Who will starve my sunflower?
Forsaken, who carries
it home?
“For Sale” signs that my
neighbors are gone. Odd, old
couple. He, long-bearded,
she shuffles, disheveled.
Screen door jams, it dampens
my mood. Clinging, the kitchen
remembers my world
in black and white,
damn the color.
Published in Spillwords Press, February 2023
