Written by: Sarah Schartner, For The Clock

seschartner@plymouth.edu

People often ask
“What’s your favorite color?”
I regurgitate the answer
I’ve had it pinned for years
“Blue”


Blue is deep, silky, dark like chocolate
Blue is Summer and the ocean
Blue is an easy reply
Easy like school, putting on cruise control
Pilot mode for a brain lacking experience
Childish and frugal
Blue is cold, stark even, chilled more often than most
Tight in your chest like relaxation with no breath


Blue is not my favorite color
Blue is not rich in comparison
Blue is not the sun dappled leaves in October
Blue is not the undertone of oaks at 2 p.m. on windy Sundays


Sundays where eyes haze over
No drugs involved, just foggy memories
Dancing between wafts of roasted cauliflower
Neutral life accentuated by the corners of mundane
Covering melancholy persistence
Reflections of early life


Blue is not the comfort of closed eyes, good rays fiery beyond lashes
Blue is not the fullest moment a heart beats in happiness
Blue is not laughter that ripples like pond puddles


Blue is not Yellow
And yellow is my favorite color


It is not the yellow you paint your room, when Mom asked in fifth grade
It is not Crayola yellow, or even yellow green, boxes with dust in the closet
For that matter

Yellow is velvet, buttery, soft like brunch pancakes
Yellow is fluid, oozy like a blue-eyed baby’s giggle


Yellow is fresh air through the sunroof, sparkly in the least flamboyant way
Yellow is not joy
But rather exponential sensitivity to beauty,
Slight and fleeting spurts
Yellow is plump, magnifying, glimmer
Yellow will not be the color of my house
Too simple of a task
For something, some part of the spectrum corneas pick up
Close to a haunting of red and a precursor to orange


Yellow is far from art, far from MoMa worthy
Most importantly
Yellow is far from Blue