All Relative

It's a matter of perspective. The happenings in our lives that might devastate us are a mere trifle in the grand scheme of things. 

All Relative

A sore throat and a cough

woke me: suspicious for Covid.

My heart slipped as mauve

marched across the home test.

If a line of coral is lamentable,

a sea of rouge must auger disaster.

As it traveled, running ragged

into a carmine control line,

the tsunami of primrose evaporated.

              *    *     *    *    *

The suggestive sign of nothing good

comes wearing scarlet: fever, flames,

blood, even sunrise.

But no army could find a telltale

strip below the crimson slash already

laid down, cheering me.

Then I read the headlines:

WAR CONTINUES IN GAZA

Battle-sweat, red, prevailing.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor 

Blue Moon

There are two types of blue moons: the seasonal blue moon which occurs when a season has four full moons, and the twice-monthly full moon. I was only familiar with the second sort. But come mid-August and the fourth full moon of summer, I learned something new. I wrote this poem as we awaited the last twice-monthly blue moon. Amazingly, the color was the same.  

Blue Moon

Three years in the waiting.

The gloaming

now inky enough to pen night's coming,

underscore moonrise.

Which shade will she wear - 

winter-sky pastel or lily pond wash?

Off to the East

behind trailing scarves of clouds

her unhurried ascent:

a stunning blood-orange.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor