I believed you once; your ability <br />to chase away shadows clouding <br />my better judgment. <br />You were but a woman with yarn <br />and I thought you rope. <br />You would nod along as if my colors <br />made sense to you, but you were <br />green and brown and red <br />and could not possibly have <br />understood. <br />You were glass to my wood, <br />contaminated sunshine in a storm, <br />precisely what I hate about yellow; <br />you were, at best, <br />lukewarm.<br /><br />Christine Austin Cole<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/icterus/
