Monarca Rising

Rose Colored Glasses

By Carmen H Gray

The truck with the tools

And the hole in the eaves

My view of the sunrise obscured by the trees

The cigarette butts

The plants dying of thirst

A Wold War II veteran nursed

In this unassuming place

And no, I never saw the ugliness

In you or you or you

I only saw what light you brought

Even in an afterthought

Even after the storms have passed

And sunlight shines its golden cast

I still see possibility in my line of sight

Sometimes I slip and take them off

Those rose-colored glasses you tossed

But if life is the way you think it is

It’s all for nought

We are absurd

Are we succored, our thoughts?

By the gentle palette?

For we can paint our world

Anyway we want