The sun’s bursting light,
Shrill and squeak,
Passes through the bedroom window as thinly sliced rainbows:
Pastel sherbet, pink, orange, red, yellow, lime and citrus,
Filling the room with
The colors of her make up sponge.
On the closet door, the sun is a brilliant white triangle
Glowing softly on blankets, pillows and curtains.
There are shadow bars on the ceiling, the hollow reflections of a fish tank.
And on the dresser silver glitter, a mirror and alarm clock.
A low table near the sliding glass doors,
bears small pots filled with dark powder- black, ash, deep purple and tan-
Stuffed with tiny spoons and brushes.
She wets her face,
(A blue ribbon holds her hair)
And kneels near the table in an ivory silk robe
Decorated with red, yellow and blue circles that roll into
The robe’s gentle folds, turns and reluctant soft falls.
With the sponge, she
Smoothes her cheeks
Pink, tan and avocado.
Pulls her hair,
Licks her finger to blend the corner of her mouth.
Then opens the curtains;
Only white light.
Through the window,
Butterflies with crayon colored wings
Carried along by currents in the air,
Wheel awkwardly through the garden,
With wire insects, hair clip grasshoppers,
cotton moths,
and salt and pepper gnats.
