Communiqué: A Quarterly Digital Journal

Extinguish Yellow?
by kelli sallman

If
I hear the chirps of children swinging
on the jungle gym, but I have not yellow, they sound
as a mind-numbing clamor or chattering teeth . . . and how can
I divide the heavens from earth if my palette lacks yellow? The grass tinges blue
without yellow beneath
. . . And if I pick a purple pansy as large as the universe, but her sun does not rise, how
will I distinguish her petals from night? . . . and when Mr. Bluebird alights on my shoulder,
how will he sing without zipidee light?

Yet . . .
If all the world's a canvas, but all the lights and hues merely yellow, then pollen lies
in yellow rivers sans life, sans joy, sans depth . . . and piggies journey to market in quest
of succulent roast
but find only lemons, and lemons, and lemons . . . and lemons . . . and the cross's beauty burns
defiled when the artist douses it with yellow urine.

Nevertheless . . .
If God made not yellow and made it to glow, His Son could not wear an imperishable wreath . . .
and where would the Pilgrim who treks the dank wood find an open bright meadow
for warmth and relief? If for contrast we need it, then for contrast
we'll keep it, for contrast we'll plead it, and for contrast we'll fight . . .
Only the witness--age yellow--dodders in at the edges
to point at the fakes and tell the truth
of pure white.