The purple windows
Are washing away the grey
It cheers us today
But the faded blue plastic
Is starting to peel away.
My eyes were once blue
A very long time ago
A pressed depth and glow
When it was that they washed to green,
I don't actually know.
The sweet green summer
Ushers in the wet and cold
Leaving warmth in folds.
And the crisp air bites our skin
While turning the landscape gold.
Those gold rings carry
Much siginificance for some.
Equilibrium.
But the orange reflections are
Adulterating this one.
Water rushes out
Rusted orange for lack of use.
A descent excuse.
But turns deep red as it spills
From the wringed neck of a goose.
Red reminds me of
Being warm and comfortable.
Not insatiable.
And burrows then to purple
As peace becomes touchable.
But then the windows
Lose their rose coloured appeal
And the world is real.
All we have again is grey.
And grey is all we can feel.
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