The writing is on the yellow wall.

I grew up with murals on the walls.  Curvy, happy, yellow ones.
It was the 1970’s, yellow was my Mom‘s favorite color,
and she’s always needed to be creatively expressive.
So yes, there were murals wherever we lived.

And it just occurred to me that those murals might be the reason
I can’t see a wall without also seeing a canvas.
Or life, as Paradise wanting to be created.

Thanks, Mom.


2 Responses to “The writing is on the yellow wall.”

  1. Deb Says:

    We are such kindred spirits! I grew up with yellow all over my room and writing on the wall your posts give me great confirmations!Deb

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