A N T H E M

xxii. orange

Both our favorite colors were orange

at the time, weren't they?

When I think of orange, it reminds me of you,

and sweet summers, and fruits,

and orange popsicles from the ice-cream truck

that came by the neighborhood pool every day.

We would run on the hot concrete,

leaving wet footprints in our tracks, and we would

pick something different from the truck every time,

but my favorite was always orange.

It reminds me of the sodas we drank

Fanta or orange cream, sitting on the benches

outside the burger joint near where we both lived

laughing away the things we worried about

and sharing fries, and I remember you

didn't like vinegar on yours but I did.

The autumn was orange when we slowly drifted apart

and I didn't see you anymore,

the bright colors faded and fell into winter

like our connections did.

Now your favorite color is yellow,

and by some coincidence mine is red.

Even now, I remember the times

when we were orange.