Semiquincentennial Lament by Barbara Ruth Saunders
Color me red.
The American beauty shows its thorns
Draws blood the shade of sailors’ weather warnings
We who don’t know if the storm is coming or going
Mourn the stolen coronation with trepidation
Color me white.
Light holds all colors fused as blinding rays
Until each hue is hurled from that state of grace
And like the feathers of painted buntings
Testifies to the miracle of coexistence
Color me blue.
I pray the winter ice learns to reflect
The regal possibility of sky
Passes the peace as it melts
Finds a way to the tranquil part of ocean
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