Blue

The crawl in my nerves
is like a cannonball 
ccaught in the target, to hide is but to encounter
only sharp bitter turns

as it rolls and sinks
water seeps 
two drops emerge down
a well-traveled path

squeezed out
at last 
disappeared in a whimper
green light lights up

Today I shall wear yellow.

©  right now, Denise A White    sad • life • pain