Rose Colored Day


Rose Colored DayA pink light glowed inside my bedroom
when I woke up this morning.
I looked outside the window and saw
pastel sunrise streaks painting the sky.
Maybe I’ll put on
rose colored glasses today.
I’ll straighten my hair,
put on hoop earrings,
a cotton crochet top,
no bra, and a peasant skirt.
I’ll go about my day hippy-happy.
Why Not?
I’ll look at the world from the
meow-man perspective.
I’ll put a little love in my life,
a new landscape,
a little softness,
a little soft focus at the edges,
Vaseline on my lens
use a pink gel.
Why not?
So that when I sit on the
405 this morning the
cars will take on a magenta hue.
All that pink metal strung
together like a large
moving centipede.
Why Not?
Like that line of poetry
written by Tomas Transtomer
I heard on NPR after he won
the Nobel Prize for Literature
in 2011,
something about how each car
became a segment of a centipede
or a millipede.
Either way,
I think I’ll make it a
rose-colored day.