by Millicent Borges Accardi
Shade of the color, the pattern
of clean fields,
edible and charming, and, in
a way, happy. You see, the callow
nest of life is its newness and hope,
along with the promise of yet
what is meant to stay. Green is the lack
of winter, the end actually
of a short story. Green is
pleasantly alluring and easygoing.
There is kelly and torch song and
moss, emerald and sage.
What is most needed in the world,
perhaps, or what can take us
away from what we fear most
is green. People eat arugula to feel
healthy. There are apples,
fresh, new, tart and bitter. The burst
of a blast of newness in your teeth
as you bite down the dense
skin is forever permanent.
The promises, there, are of
a particular happiness, the kind
most people don’t want. Green is the
opposite of white or black. Drowned
in dense color, green is a sphere of false
brightness. There is newly-sawed
lumber, a sexy dress, cut
by a sexy track of old sweat
on a working body that is in its
prime and undeniable.
Millicent Borges Accardi, a Portuguese-American writer, is the author of three poetry books, most recently Only More So (Salmon Poetry, Ireland). Her awards include fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), Fulbright, CantoMundo, Creative Capacity, the California Arts Council, The Corporation of Yaddo, Fundação Luso-Americana, and Barbara Deming Foundation. She curates the Loose Lips and Kale Soup poetry reading series.
Salmon Poetry Collection: Only More So @ Amazon
http://www.MillicentBorgesAccardi.com
@TopangaHippie on Twitter
(Don’t miss Millicent’s poem Because This One Is Broken from the December 16, 2019 Weekly. – Elephants Never)