An Overcast Day In June Poem by Patti Masterman

Speeding along the highway
There's suddenly a bright
Explosion; unruly color
That calls to you from the passing blur:
The unexpected purple house
It's almost gone before you see it-
As if a river of lavender
Once flowed down that street
Left it's mark only on certain
Vulnerable things
One house coated on all sides
The house next to it seeming to sport
Only a single lavender door
I'm certain that if I could follow it closely
Look for the tell-tale lavender shoe tracks
I would note the lavender trace
Gradually wear thinner, house by house
Dwindle to a trellis or a shutter
Until it was just a slight stain
On a solitary front porch-
As if a child had spilled
His single pot of lavender
And had to finish his painting by number
With some garish dark purple
All the while wishing he could pour out
Collect, all that lavender, there preening itself
Under the trees, under the back lit clouds
As if it had been placed there precognitively
Years before, only to meet his need of a moment
On an overcast day in June.