Orange 45
I have a favorite shade of orange.
Have you ever been up before the sun
when the only indication of day
is a lighter hue on the east horizon
than the rest of the inky, star-filled sky?
Colors begin to announce the sun,
and the night thinks about retreating.
Momentary purple is the first
to soften the dark veil,
but it isn’t strong enough to change
darkness to light.
The victory over night is secured
when orange cuts through.
It’s a smooth, warm orange that reveals
the sun’s power over darkness
as it makes way for rays of light
to penetrate farther than the orange glow.
This orange is hope for a new day,
for all the dreams of night to become reality.
Before the pinks impinge on sky
they could never take from the dark night,
orange clears more of the horizon,
spreading like arms opening for an embrace.
If you’re lucky, clouds hold on to its glow,
reflecting the warm orange
as far as the rays of the imminent sun.
And then, in a blink, the orange is gone,
forced into shades of coral
because the pinks push their way onstage
without waiting for orange to take its bows.
But I know it was the strength of orange
that broke through the darkness
and brought a new day,
that started lightening the sky from
an impenetrable dark to a backdrop
that is light enough for me to color
any way I want to.
Orange extended the invitation
for me to take over, like the pinks.
The possibilities for my day are endless.
Thank you, orange.
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