Brewster's Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

An atmosphere of color in everyday items, blended irrationally
with each other.

Clashing tiles, standing out against different shades of purple,
angled and bent.

No aromas of food come close to my sense of smell, only the
sight of people cooking allows the faint thought of this being
a restaurant.

A yellow wall flagrantly smashes into my eyes and falls upon a
corner of the table.

Astonished by the use of shades of purple and yellow, I sit
back, awaiting with only a little anticipation, the color of
the food I will be served.