On a beautiful day, I am blue
Not like the cloudless, cerulean sky
Where the bright, mocking sun
Unfavorably compares my mood
To her brilliance, warmth and cheer
This blue is the slate
Of the storm-tossed ocean
Heavy seas, deep and dark
Full of sunken ships
And drowned sailors
The dangerous blue
Of exposure
Of lips curled over chattering teeth
Shivering in the cold
Killing frost of November
The kind of blue
That manifests itself as anger
Only because the rage
Feels just a little better
Than the weakness of sorrow
But its a blue that passes quickly
When I raise my head with purpose
It runs away like water
Dribbling through my fingers
And drying in the breeze
Header Image: IKB 79 ~ Yves Klein, 1959
