Melting butterscotch cubes glaze over the white kitchen counter tops,
Last nights green squash smeared along the bottom of my once white socks,
Everything is white.
Pink soap residue and crusted old bubble circles the white master tub,
wilting purple flower petals float around the white shaggy rug,
Everything was white.
Brown smudged hand prints slathered across the white long walls,
Broken crayon droppings lined up and down the white sunlite halls,
Nothing is white.
Carrots and green pea stains on my new white mama bird t-shirt,
Rainbow color marker traces on her favorite white twirling skirt,
Nothing will be white.
Not the doors, tables, or cracked sidewalk by the old slanted tree,
But bright hues and sweet smells twist around me all signs of you three,
Everything is colored.