Hour 10: Colours

You may not realise this, but blind people, even those who've been blind since birth, still have favourite colours. In this poem I try to give an insight into how a blind person can relate to colour. My favourite colour is red. The last colour I remember seeing was the yellow of some daffodils / jonquils in a planter outside my family doctor's office in Decatur, GA :)


The tickle under barefoot feet
is green, emerald in the sun, viridian in the shade.
The skies are blue
singing with birds and be-anything clouds.
Grey are the paths and brown the park benches
on which linger the people you've never met,
the conversations you'll one day have.

Yellow is the warmth that wraps an arm around
your shoulders, quiet and happy,
simple, and simultaneously profound.

Black is the unknown
the emptiness of someone gone
the fears we do not like to own.

Pink is a birthday, immediately unwrapped
giddy with ribbons and party friends
the kind of day that runs until we're super tired, then ends,
collapsing into purple shades and closing eyes.

The stories and the dreams, white
the sheet of paper, the field of snow
waiting for footprints to bite.

This heart, red like nothing else
the essence of danger, love and life.

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