Color of Ink

My ink may run
as black as coal,
as dark as
a dark night
of the soul.

Or flow red hued
like the morning sky;
as red as love,
or red man's blood
on hard-baked clay.

Yellow ink hues
my many suns,
my moons
the color of
dry bone.

Blue-inked waves
may wash my
blues away,
or sing the blues as blue
as muddy waters.

Gray ink clouds
on a fog-shrouded
empty highway
take me from here
to the Blue Ridge
mountains.

White-capped sailors
sail the arctic
as lost as
my white ink
on a blank page.

r ~ 5/13/14

Reviews

[Bright Ocean Star]

I really like this one. I like the use of colors as metaphors for moods of the soul....very nice write, r!

[Rick r]

Thank you. I appreciate your read and comment.
Rick

[Daisie Vergara (Dhaye)]

This is one of your best works and one of my favorite pieces of yours, r.
Indeed the color of a writer's ink depends on his mood, feeling or perception towards something at a given time.
Excellent for me. Bravo!

[Rick r]

Thank you, Dhaye. I appreciate the read and comment. I'm glad you enjoyed this one.
Rick

[Daisie Vergara (Dhaye)]

You're welcome, r.