orange

forage for oranges
fumble for words
writing my thoughts
wringing my hands

facade of beauty on the
far side of the moon
the room wasn't orange
not the walls
not the ceiling
not the floor
not the rug
not the shelves
not the books
not the mouse
not the monitor
not the mic
not the phone.
and yet it occupied
his mind as so many
other words had over the
years.
yours-
elf.
mine-
dwarf-
others.
word games
where the word
orange actually
is of some use
fall comes.
autumn arrives.
that electric air
when some of us
fall in love like
others in spring
and thinking
of spring and
fall and the
tall walls,
the tea
stalls
time
for
the briefest of moments.

a briefcase of moments,
now forgotten, misplaced,
stolen, lost, forever gone.
orange as a mood
somewhere south
west of blue or
other hues of
emotionary
wonders.