Blue Edge
When we painted the house from yellow to blue, I stood close by to watch your expression. You told me not to eat all the donuts, and just stared when I said there were always so many extra by the end of gatherings. My mother asked me to refill the water jug with the hose. I went quickly so no one would take my spot. Behind the fence a field went on for miles in grass slopes, housing rabbits and snakes. You caught a striped garter once and showed it to me. I used my paintbrush as a fidget toy and painted loops between your edging. I drew a blue sun on the chocolate frosted’s empty box. My father warned me not to spray you with the hose or I might mess up the paint. You said you wouldn’t be able to come back to help again tomorrow. You invited me to the park the next day, but I wasn’t allowed to go. I sent you home with a dozen glazed donuts. You told me you were probably moving soon, but you had said that many times before. When I called you on the phone and was informed this was a new number, now belonging to a stranger, I wished I could see the edges you painted, permanent in an outline. The house looked so solidly blue.
Autumn Williams is the author of two poetry books: her chapbook “Waves”, and her number one bestselling collection “Clouds on the Ground”. Her poems have been featured in Flare Magazine, Wildscape, Nettle Literary Journal, and others. She also earned a silver medal in The Wishing Shelf Book Awards.
Website Links:
www.autumnwilliams.com
Instagram: @autumnwilliamspoetry