Colour me Resilient

Colour me resilient

Mum’s death cloaked me like a deep, warm, purple blanket,

I knew it was coming, seeping slowly towards me from a dark, black abyss.

You are strong they said. Time heals everything. She is better off where she is.

They all sung from the same white, gold-trimmed, hymn book.

My partner’s death followed. Four short months later.

Out of the blue. It smashed me. Like an angry, monstrous grey and white tsunami.

I swallowed the bitter, salty, caramel grief. Its gritty brown taste was omnipresent.

This was the main course. The black dog followed as desert.

I saw red. Blood red. Everywhere. Especially in my dreams.

Through the claret-stained haze, my gilded daughter shimmered ethereally.

So, despite my wretched, sad, spiritless soul. Up I got.

The golden sun still shone. As they said it would.

Someday soon, colour will return to my days. I look forward to it.

I will embrace the tangerine sunrise; the turquoise, white, froth-topped waves.

The oasis of my rose-scented garden. And cerulean, salmon sunsets.

Because I am coloured resilient.

Kylie McIntosh

May 15, 2021