The Color Of The Khakis (Serious Adult Content)

Music and mirrors, and horses dancing,
Shouts and laughter, and unicorns prancing,
Mingled with the chant of the carney calling,

'Give me your pennies,
for dreams I have many,
and memories are unveiled,
as you wave to the carousel.'

On the Fourth of July, her boy would,
Try to catch the colors in the sky if he could
as he whirled by on the carousel.
She could still hear his voice,

'Mommy, Mommy, if I
Could catch those colors way up high,
I'd never, ever let them die! '

She ran to the beach,
hoping to find peace,
and see again the little boy
who grew up to wear the khakis.

She walked on the shore,
Not knowing what she was looking for.
The sand reminded her of the old parchment
Upon which freedom's words were once written.

The fireworks'lights washed the sand
with a glistening red band,
Like the khakis that covered the chest,
Of the boy who never came back.

She imagined she saw him in the sky,
Calling, 'I'll never let those colors die! '

In vain she touched the strip of ruby beach,
Trying somehow to keep him in her reach.
She cried, 'Freedom's words are on paper,
but they're held together by torn,
broken shreds of khaki. Slowly she walked
back to the carousel.

'Take my pennies,
for tears I have many
and dreams that end
with the carousel.'

by Mary Naylor

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.