Blue

Blue is rainwater gushing through gutters,
dripping out of a periwinkle sky
and leaving rippling mirrors on the sidewalk.

Blue is like wrapping paper
and birthday candles
flickering against an eager face.
It's sweet and cool,
smooth as shimmery satin,
but impersonal, careful
to keep its distance.

It's fresh and squeaky-clean,
bubbles flitting through the air,
laundry flapping on a line,
blueberries soaking in the sink.

Blue has the sound
of tinkling wind chimes
dangling and dancing
in the Rocky Mountain breeze.
It's mountain streams
and towering peaks.

It's the threads
woven into Cinderella's dress,
the magic that conjured the gown
and her dainty glass slippers.

Blue is the color of wishes
made on birthday candles and shooting stars,
but only the kind
that come true.