THERE’S NO GOLD STAR

There’s no gold star on my artwork today,
I started with such care,
Staying inside the bold, black lines
With a calm, steady hand,
Moving the colors up and down,
Round and round, without a sound,
Smiling at the precise zones of color I created,
Separate but equal, I thought,
Don’t cross the lines and you’ll be fine,
But fine is not what I was after,
Not really, Not today, Not this way,
So I picked up the green, the red and the blue,
I followed with colors of most every hue,
I crossed every line, then crossed them again,
And did it with glee and a tilt of my chin,
And so there’s no star, not gold, red or green,
No simple reward to feed my esteem,
But who needs a star for playing it safe,
Who needs a star with so much at stake,
Who needs a star when the path that we take
Might lead to a rainbow of color.

Photo and Poem by Rita Bourland