Cream color is she
Driving under an azure sky are we
In amongst a man-made canyon
carved out of lines of trees on either side; bursting in color
Reds, yellows, oranges
They come to flame one last time
Before going to sleep
We drive upon asphalt
My cream colored car and I
Amongst others;
Black or gray
It seems the color of the day
Owners of the cars with a slight sense of sadness and despair
Economy, war, hatred and madness
Their mood is the color of their car
And I travel amongst them
In my cream colored car
Because I know better
The future is always brighter
It always has been
For 200,000 years
Years that show that we get better
And it will always be that way
Driving in my cream colored car
I smile
Because I know
It will get better
By Wade M. dos Santos
The cream colored car is a 1959 MGA in its original factory color: Old English White. I am the second owner. The original owner, my mother Gerry Cleary, also owns the car. It has over 200,000 miles on it. For decades it was it a daily driver from one side of the San Fransisco Bay to the other.
'The Color of the Day' have 3 comments
April 21, 2017 @ 12:14 pm Bayard DeNoie
What a wonderful and marvelous tribute!
September 18, 2017 @ 6:01 pm Jim Blackford
What a nice poem. I know Wade, his mother and the car. I didn’t know he was a poet.
October 3, 2017 @ 2:44 am Wade Michael dos Santos
I haven’t written a poem since high school.
But I had to sooth humanities’ current state of mind.