A love for Colors

What is your favorite color? Is it blue, or indigo, wisteria, or jasmine... Is it the color of that leaf over there, or the shade of orange-pink in the sky that surrounds the falling sun at eight forty-five at night? Hmmm, is it the color of tomato soup with some cream still swirling in after the aged wooden spoon just stirred it up, or maybe it’s not a specific color? Maybe it’s a color only your mind can possibly create when you run your fingers on an old wooden bench, or maybe it’s the taste of that lavender infused honey you put in your tea this morning. Or, or maybe it’s the smell of some Sweet Autumn Clematis that has taken over the fence in your backyard. Maybe...You don’t have a favorite color, because all colors are truly spectacular, or maybe just because you don’t like colors, or because you are blind.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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