I purchased a big box of crayons,

I hoped, in the neat, pointed rows
to discover the color of America,

I found Strawberry Jam, Wild Tangerine,
Screamin’ Green, Outrageous Orange,
loud, profound colors,
bold, ambitious blends,

they called to me
over subtler shades
like Robin’s Egg Blue, Mountain Meadow,
Sunset Orange, Carnation Pink,

hues with something to say,
yet holding less sway in our noisy world
where a slash of Laser Lemon
easily turns heads,

we’re a messy, noisy crowd in America,

we color outside the lines,
create our own designs,

we love with abandon,
hate with fervor,
embrace with passion,
march with purpose,

we like to clash,
complain, shout in ALL CAPS
while insisting our views,
our hues, are the best,

it’s a test every day
to find the true us,
the depth we need,
the hope we seek,

our great melting pot
under red, white and blue
will never be calm,
or a rainbow post-storm,

we’ve come far
on our kaleidoscope shores,
but not far enough,

we’ll walk on together
and continue to honor,
continue to ponder,
the colorful hues of our vexing,
perplexing, audacious,
beloved land.

One response

  1. Maureen Shepherd | Reply

    A box of crayons is a perfect visual allegory for our colorful and cantankerous country. A masterful poem as always. ❤️

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