Orange

Could it be the long tan stretch?

the sky as the evening it burns.

The fire of the forest,

or wood heater.

My orange.

She longs, she lusts, she yearns.

It surprises you with the citrus smell of it.

Bringing you to life.

It go's on forever. It is a marvel that

orange sight.

The desert brings the harshness of it all.

To real and consequence to life.

Orange is a smile my friend.

A wrong that's put to right.

Orange sometimes we do dismiss.

As outrageous, not quite there.

But do you think orange dose.

Honestly give a moment, to give a care.

No orange is what will and always be.

A color loved, sometimes despised.

Because orange knows the truth of it.

It sees beyond the allusions.

Orange never hides.

And it will never lie down.

Or shy away or be that,

just dam bright.

Orange is a greeting.

Of morning and first light.

And don't, orange just know it.

Walking around so dam proud.

Orange is a bit obnoxious

Orange, dam is it loud.

And in the end who is to blame orange.

For being completely true.

And I know I could take a lesson.

On not being afraid, and just being you.

By Natalie Spring