The Purple Boat
The purple boat sank.
There was no explanation.
Our father made us three,
blue, green and purple,
from sheets of coloured paper,
blue, green and purple.
We thought they were hats
at first
and ran around
holding them
on our too large heads.
But he said they were boats
and showed us how to sail them,
pushing them from the side
with long twigs
until they made
a small bright flotilla,
blue, green and purple,
in the glass clear water.
And then the purple boat sank
leaving only
the blue and the green.
A sad flotilla,
of blue and green
in the glass clear water.
There was no explanation.
But I think, most likely,
it was spied by some creature below,
who,
loving the colour purple,
grasped it
and took it below
to make it her own.
But I don’t know.
Now
I have found
that life is often like that.
There was no explanation.
Our father made us three,
blue, green and purple,
from sheets of coloured paper,
blue, green and purple.
We thought they were hats
at first
and ran around
holding them
on our too large heads.
But he said they were boats
and showed us how to sail them,
pushing them from the side
with long twigs
until they made
a small bright flotilla,
blue, green and purple,
in the glass clear water.
And then the purple boat sank
leaving only
the blue and the green.
A sad flotilla,
of blue and green
in the glass clear water.
There was no explanation.
But I think, most likely,
it was spied by some creature below,
who,
loving the colour purple,
grasped it
and took it below
to make it her own.
But I don’t know.
Now
I have found
that life is often like that.
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