Blue

Blue is cold,

Like an icy draft that persuades you to pull your collar up,

To shield from the snow that comes abruptly.

Blue is harsh,

Like the waves that never still,

The storm just beyond a hill.

Blue is sorrow,

Like a blank and solemn face,

Flowers wilted in a vase.

But winter passes.

Waves break.

New flowers come to bloom.

And blue can be bright,

Like a cloudless summer sky.

Blue can be sweet,

Like a berry filled pie.

And blue can be warm,

Like a stomach full of butterflies