Beneath The Strange Poem by Stacy Brown

I failed to notice the color of blue until I saw the faintest hint of yellow
become brighter as we exchanged moments in time.
It took my gaze from the depths of each expression of days reunited
with memories of ago and I was drawn into the gentle way
each blink danced across features long over looked.
It was the kind of blue that skies painted of canvas envied
and musicians wished to compose.
Time dripped and slid down the hourglass
blue gradually faded to gray.
Coolness slipped by as insecurities washed away
with the warmth of the night.
The sensory change shifted the mood to cozy
bringing about an observation that had not yet been scrutinized.
A unique look, curiously gentle, waded thru my seasons
begging for more of every syllable produced by hindsight.
I gave in to the bluest yellow, knowing that my own curiosity
would fade in to each blink that looked beneath the strange.