THE COLOR OF MUSIC


We sat on the hill
Beneath and old tree
The wind cool and from the north
The sun at mid morning

I laid my head in her lap
Looking up at her red hair
She took the flute
To her lips

I closed my eyes
It was a song
That had no name
But I knew it was her heart

I saw the wild flowers
As she played
Yellow and blue
Dancing to the flute

Ocean waves green
Crashing on white sand
Her breath seeping life
Into the music

Her eyes of green
With a tinge of brown
The silver tube
In her hands

Graceful sounds
Changing so slightly
It could be missed
Like a sunset of orange and blue

Still she played
And I dreamed
Snow capped mountains
And the silent color of love


Michael V Hechtman