When I think about Ochre Yellow,
I think that perhaps I never knew
That yellow perhaps is a stranger,
that I never gave a proper chance.
Are lemons brighter?
Their fleshy innards a smooth tapioca creamed color?
That the bright yellow reflections
of sunshine on puddles
aren’t as sharp as they feel.
That if I never knew yellow,
perhaps what I think is yellow is actually orange.
And by then my mind begins to bend and I’m
thinking I should stop and simply trust
that yellow is yellow until I see otherwise.