POC
Only Chameleons Need All Their Colours
We’re all people of some colour, some hue
Between shaded nightfall and stark daybreak
I’m in love with all women, as you know
Only perceiving breasts and other gifts
Always clothed but potentially undressed
As my senses have one track to follow
A chameleon survives through its hues
It ain’t factual in our genetics
Thus why do we notice colour when white
Is all rainbow colourants coalesced
Forming a texture of pure love engulfed
By particles of light and utter joy
As we realise at last, free at last
We’re all descended from poor stars that died
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Do we ever reflect on how we honestly view POC (People of Colour)? Dedicated to the chameleon and the rainbow.
About the Creator
Patrick M. Ohana
A medical writer who reads and writes fiction and some nonfiction, although the latter may appear at times like the former. Most of my pieces (over 2,200) are or will be available on Shakespeare's Shoes.
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The Business of Nature
Dew drops reflected the light of the sun. The inhabitants of Whispering Woods woke up to the golden droplets of water on the leaves of the flora. The oaks particularly enjoyed the light and the maples did, too. Happiness enveloped all who lived there, even the rocks that cried out in the night delighted in the morning.
By Skyler Saunders3 days ago in Fiction
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