Looking at the blurry

with soft eyes.  I dwell on the pink exclamation mark.  I think today needs hope.  I put down the news about the tsunami warning.  Water for good and for bad.  

Molten

 and always turning with a touch of azure and pink.

Some times the road

dark & slick with a single light.  Except, of course, for what lies above you. While looking down has its merits, some times all it takes is a long stretch into the sky to hold the pink.  

Who doesn't love

pink if she/he is being honest
even if ribbons are involved
especially with a spot
of green

Reacquainted with pink

As a child, pink was of no interest and yet now, it swims gently toward your eyes.  I prefer pink radishes to red.  However, with poetry red always wins my favor especially if shoe, involved.  

A growing love of pink

and all its shades.  Also a growing love of root vegetables, especially beets. Carmelized. Makes me think of the beat of poetry.

Sometimes a face, sometimes a fan

The color pink & rosy with a stroke of red and the hue of loam to ground.  Who shall we call her?  How does she spin?  How does she turn a salad into a poem?