This all means something.
There’s a big red box–
And red stands for life, for blood …
No, madness. No,
Red is angry.
But the yellow rectangles
Are happy and excited
To be here,
So are gray and white,
And those last two hug the red
Because they like the way it smells.
The blue wishes it were red.
The black box,
Well, it’s hard to see
But there are people in there
Souls trapped in midnight.
Their hands reach out
But never find the orienting wall.
Every space is bigger in the dark;
The air, closer; and every sound
A stiff breeze drying out
Wide open, useless eyes.
The people push each other down
When they touch.
No fear is greater than that found
In the absence of light
And it’s not the box that’s dark,
It’s their hearts and that’s what
This all means.
NaPoWriMo Day 24. The NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem that responds to a work of art.
Please visit this list of my poet friends who are also doing the poem-a-day challenge. They are worth the look. I’m inspired by them daily. Contact me if you want to be added to the list.
© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2012