Purple

The color purple has always entranced me,
as though the thought of it would send
one thousand little visions through my head
of particular things that amuse me.

Thoughts of rain and wind and long summer nights,
and those of winter and snow and everything white
are not those that run through my head when I think of the color purple.

When I envision purple, the first thing I see
is a portrait of you and me
underneath that big oak tree.

When I think of the color purple I think of the dress I wore on our first date,
and how, when you dropped me off at home
you gave me that wink.

Or the day that we were wed,
and you said that you'd love me 'til you were dead.

Purple was always my favorite color,
and you loved that about me.
You'd give me jewelry and presents
of that particular hue,
and the more I imagine this shade,
the more I think of you.

You always loved how I wore lavender perfume,
and how under that oak tree, there was never any gloom.

Now
Sitting under that same oak tree,
I let my thoughts and my feelings run free.

The color purple floods my memories in shapes of you
and sometimes, thinking about it,
I become blue.
But I refuse to let that blue feeling sink in,
because I would rather feel the same way I felt with you.
So I'll feel the way that brings me back
to the day that I found my sweet Jack,
and the countless days and nights we've spent together,

and how our love lasted for his forever.

And so, on this cold day in April,
I'll feel purple.