No black, no grey,
throw out drabness.
I will not remember you
with downcast eyes
nor lowered voice.

For you, I will wear
all the bright colors:
red as your lipstick,
red as the coat you wore
the last time I saw you.

For you, I will stick together
the pages of my recipe book,
skipping past crab, clam, quail
to bake strawberry tarts
with my daughter.

No black, no grey,
in that other country
where we were children;
no sun as bright
as that sun.

(First published in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette)

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