Blue

Wonder why they say ‘feeling blue’
Like it’s something sad or bad
When blue is the color of this wondrous winter sky,
and that magnificent ocean
stretching to the horizon and dreams beyond;
and the summer lake which laps against the sand
and my sockless feet,
and the color of your eyes, child,
which I drown in daily.



copyright Jane Grant-Abban Dec 2009

Crying on the Outside

This day I’m crying on the outside.
There are days where
sadness swells and gently washes on to my
happy beach but
retreats quickly without
knocking over my sandcastle structures
adorned with shells and fancy flags.
On such days
crying on the inside is enough.

But there are other days
where sorrow tsunamis its ways in
obliterating my sandy fort and
leaving nothing but indefinable mounds of wetness
and not a victory flag in sight.
On such days
crying on the inside is simply not enough.


copyright Jane Grant-Abban Dec 2009