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June 22, 2007
5 haiku 234
As a kid I liked
the sound of the word purple.
It made a plopping.
To my admitted,
burgundy is a color
before it's a wine.
The car smelled gray foul.
Some called it gray, but it was
silver and charcoal.
Pink's not a color.
It's the fleshy sound of one
after another.
I no longer seem
to associate white with
pure, nor flames with hot.
- This entry is part of the 4913 haiku project.
- Continue reading 4913 haiku with a random entry.
- A brief explanation of the project can be found here.
- Still more reading options with a new, prettier format coming soon!
Posted By martin at 12:11 AM | Link to This Post | Comments (0)
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