Blue Is All I See
How to spell a loss that returns year after year,
casting a pall on a season of joy?
Words do not suffice when every carol
is shadowed by the blues, without
the light in your eyes, gathered
from those who gathered around you.
I gather that blue and imagine you here,
your light shining upon us, the blues
the farthest thing from my mind.
This is my response to MTB: Synesthesia, the prompt from Grace at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to incorporate music in a poem from the perspective of a synesthete.