Yellow

It’s a lilting, beautiful yellow

said with such confidence, eagerness

I hesitate to correct her

even though she offers me a green crayon.

But when she announces

the blue and red ones as yellow

I insist and she quickly complies

and moves to her magnetic board

to pronounce to Papa

tree, and butterfly and lion and apple 

and I realize California is too far

from Rhode Island.

Change comes quickly at 18 months.

Since I last saw her

twelve percent of her life has passed--

marked only by FaceTime kisses and bye-byes.

Now she is headlong into climbing

on the coffee table and daring to jump 

as my daughter and son in law stifle smiles

and dread at the same time.

She roams the house spewing nouns

Turtle, crab, cheese, shell

and always her favored yellow.

So fun to say it colors

the other crayons she brings to me

even the broken purple one.

In my week’s visit

I witness her blowing past 150 on her word list

with lobster, octopus, shark, again 

and offer maybe not so precocious word-strings, 

ladybug, kitty-cat, love-you.

And even though I am hoping soon 

to hear blue become blue, red become red

I already miss her yellow sunshine.

---

John Petraglia

John Petraglia is a Napa, California poet/writer and environmental communications professional. He is the author of a new holiday Children's Picture Book: Featherstorm; and Haiku chapbook: The Moon Has No Light of Its Own. His poems have appeared in Thema, InScribe, Meritage, and the California Literary Review.