Orange

Orange
has many shades

It is the colour of change

Orange is what you feel

in a flirty skirt

and golden gladiator sandals.

Orange makes love

with her spirit

Has her own chakra

Turns cartwheels

on a national flag.

Can be eaten

by the dozen

in Haiti, on a hot day,

as you climb miles

of dusty track

to visit a dying child.

Orange can save your life.

Sometimes, very rarely

Orange

can be misunderstood

misused, even abused.

Whose eyes are these
that cannot see

the aura of good?

Not the ones concealed

beneath

the complementary black hood.

The list of requirements
is simple.
You have to hate.

Declare yourself an Agent

of the Enemy of the State.

Then wait

for the bombs to detonate,

while the detainees contemplate

Who hates who

more?

Just so you know

I am thinking of you

Brothers of the Bay

in your isolated cages

in your suffocating spaces

I am trying to free you

I am trying to believe in you

Orange.

Poem, copyright 2010, Shaista