track my life Crayola bright.
Pink infant with colicky baby blues.
Grade school cobalt uniform
morphed to purple-gold cheerleader poms.
College reading, black and white print
in mahogany-shelved library stacks.
then tie-dyed kaleidoscope kids.
Senior grey? Never.
It’s silver in my golden years.
Merril is hosting dverse tonight, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. She asks us to use the word “track” or a form of the word, within our poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Photo: yep, that’s me, without my glasses about two months ago.