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,


loving the colour purple,

grasped it 

and took it below

to make it her own.

But I don’t know.


I have found

that life is often like that.


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