Anytime is good to send the imagination winging in every possible direction
and nothing is what is seems, even ordinary things have a gift beyond themselves,
anything can be something else … …
the child drew a bird
with a yellow crayon
she knew it was a blue bird
because she had seen it
that way there was no
blue crayon
she saw the bird
tied to white paper
by yellow lines
it flew loose
into the air of her room
blue against
pale cream walls 
circled once
and soared out through
the open window
she looked at her hands
picked up the yellow crayon
and drew a scarlet bird
first published in Atlantis
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