Picasso’s blue period.
Shades of cobalt,
streaks of cerulean,
periwinkle pops.
Hues of humanity
brushed on canvas.
New Orleans blues
strut the streets.
Brassy sounds.
Bourbon crowds.
Indigo girl hopscotches
hair flying, double-dutches.
Skip-to-my-lou
my darling denim clad child.
Love you always,
true blue.
Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. I’m hosting today and asking folks to include the word “indigo” in their poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Image made on Bing Create.
