A Lost Shade of Blue – Poetry by Misky Braendeholm

She says blue
comes from
California.
Straight up from the sea. 

Sticks itself on the sky,
where rain
falls blind from heaven.

Like blind justice. 

She stares at me with
those sun-bleached
California
blue eyes. 

There’s a bible on her lap,
but she says it’s 
Gone With The Wind.
Words squeeze between her teeth, 

God remembers everything, girl. 

And she remembers
being a teenager,
her hair gleaming
from Castile soap, 

and
she wore
white pleated skirts
and
sailor-collar tops. 

She 
can’t
won’t
doesn’t
remember childbirth. 

Nor marriage.
Or if it’s Tuesday. 

But she knows that
today is Outside Day. 

Tucked up in a chair.
Fresh pine-sharp air.
Sunshine off a breeze. 

Fresh air.
Does you good,
like what blue did
for California, she says.

---

About the Poet

‘Misky’ Braendeholm lives in the UK surrounded by flowers, grapevines, and the rolling hills of West Sussex. She never buys clothes without pockets. Her poetry is published by Waterways: Ten Penny Players, Right Hand Pointing, and Visual Verse.

For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.