Caution in the wind

It's a good thing that red lights aren't like red flags-

more commonly seen in hindsight.

Color blindness may be more like

selective hearing.

Why are there so many bright

crimson colors kaleidoscoping 

when remembering (him)?

Would those red flags be like;

the ambulance rides, the light coming in

on the sides (gut instinct)

could it be

the blood splatters, bloody hands,

drunken stupors

or the rage, or his cheeks, 

the fire-alarm(s)

the sunsets, the stains

or the business bank account

shiny red as a waxed Macintosh apple

(poisoned)...

Not once

an apology,

not black or white-

It seemed neon 

not calling me beautiful-anymore

disdain, malice, silence

and absence (even when present),

'Vacancy'

Now I can see

the grey area 

are the clouds, air-wind made visible,

attempting to contain-

Believe

they loom, as omens, but do not stop 

or look back while perpetually

moving forward,

breaking and forming again and again.

And all colors 

are prismatic, it is we that assign

such meanings as

to stop or go. 

Painting by Anna Lownes, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.