seeing in color

i remember that night

back in Colorado

february 6th

a directionally challenged 20 something girl

walking solo, through downtown, on a friday night

in search of poor richard's bookstore

searching for God knows what,

she ends up instead with a memoir

of a woman's journey through

italy

india

indonesia.

that night,

she learns again

to

eat.

pray.

love.

she treats herself

to a steaming chocolate drizzled mocha

while penning the words

to her first poem in months,

dedicated to the muted jazz trumpet

drifting through the air

and the people on the streets,

playing their own tunes,

sighing

their own miseries.

she watches two lovers

interwoven

on a leather couch,

beating out obama's health plan

and

their fifteen year old daughter's

black-haired, mohawked boyfriend

and

their dreams

to

open

a bed and breakfast

together

before it's too

late.

tonight

october 9th

black-matted pictures

of bright orange

iowa sunsets

and snow-covered, dove-embedded

peaks

surround me.

to my right, flowers

are

bursting

color

into the room

bouncing

off of the

conversation

at the table next to me,

where two friends

discuss

the smell

of Christmas

and Mexico

and brokenness.

thank God i am

seeing

this

world

in

color.