but tell me, do you see in color
or is life a focal plain gathered in
the precipitation of a rainbow and
we are all functional creatures below it,
four-limbed ground dwelling, toying with the sky
in whitewashed, feather-stripped mechanical birds
with makeshift clouds keeping us collected on ocean tides
conquering the ground beneath our feet
only to destroy it. i perceive your concern,
but what if you were to receive a flood of
unabashed acquiescence
and the entire world was coated in your
shade of sullen gray? this is not
the hope we were hoping for
take it all back, return the sunset hues and
dim firefly glow, the emerald olive foliage
glistening snow and painted villages
replenish the sandstone valleys
the ramshackle meadows briars and swamps
and those heart-mending flowers,
honeyed clover and the garden queens.
return it and give us all a reason to thrive.
Written by. Natasha Bredle
Painting by. Claude Monet (Weeping Willow, 1919)
Natasha Bredle (she/her) is an emerging young writer whose work is featured or is forthcoming in Second Chance Lit, Aster Lit, and The Aurora Journal, among others. Perspectives on mental health and ponderings about the emotional capacity of human beings tend to occupy her headspace.