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Yellow

 Umbrella of escutcheons pleads yellow, is it safe. Is the big, soft sun purposeful and craning in the justice. The docents always appear scrambled, light plays off. They travel the bunny routes while fox sniffs softly. You may be safe. Igloos may frighten you but so do trees. A rapture of sunlight thru trees appears over there. Language filters thru. The regional child still needs. Yellow goes aloof and impossible. You were so potato but you need no excuse. Yellow spans language then tipples. Make a move towards anything. Excuse every rock and startle. Swallow Rimbaud’s birthstone word by word and exactly. Begin tremendous again.


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