Highlighters in the Sky by Charlene Kwiatkowski
driving down old country roads
pushing deeper into farm land
away from the speed of Seattle
its market gossip and grey-brown buildings
road signs every few miles
mark the way to our treasure
who needs signs when you first see
that line of colour against the horizon
highlighters in the sky
better than any road map
just follow that yellow brick—
field of the brightest pinks, mauves, corals,
peaches, and oranges
colours like fruit
so ripe the sweetness
seeps from root to bulb
I feel spoiled to stand in this spot
surrounded by dancers coming down aisles
ball gowns and tailored suit jackets
heads swaying to the rhythm of the wind
tall necks erect, bodies leaning in
one man’s cologne mingling with a lady’s perfume
whispering some great secret
about the mystery of the universe
I bend at the knees
weak with delight, straining to catch
even a scent of what they’re saying
and maybe a word, a look, a glimmer
about the dance, and what
beauty is like
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