Yellow is the cat that rolls in the dusted driveway. She attracts the pollen like a cloth…
Yellow are the cars that move through the swollen air. They move the pollen like wakes in the sea. Every finger print and every smudge comes to life…
Yellow are the skies. The trees cast out the season’s song on the wind. They remind me of the dandelion under the breath of a child...
Yellow is the street. It holds the arid dust in the smallest of crevices like caulk to a painter. It waits for rain…
Yellow are the rooftops. The brown shingles of my neighbor are faded now… The metal roof of the barn in the country hides its rust and looks out of focus…
Yellow are the fences and the fields… yellow are the window sills… yellow are the bicycles, hidden under the porch… yellow is our world as we wait for the waters of the sky for relief…
Yellow is the first days of Spring…
Shannon R Killman
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