Tonight's Poet Corner: Yellow

Yellow
by Belinda Roddie

My favorite flowers are in bloom again:
Roses, dipped in honey, slipped sky fingers
caressing fragile cheeks, and as they bristle
with anticipation of the wind, I, too, am
aroused by the canvas of the elements.

The song plays in my head again.
Behind the gazebo, shadows stopped playing
to hear the timbre of our vows.

When I stopped by my mother's garden,
I wore my soul on my bare arms because
I had no sleeves to cover it up. Some day,
I'll tattoo it where it won't ever fade.
And it will be outlined by these roses.

The joy I crave is like the last sip
of cold mint tea in a heat wave:
The glass sweats against me, and I dream.