Blue You Saw

You’d given me so much that spring

I wanted to give something back

The scent of clay still on my hands

A blue unlike the sky I’d planned

Beyond that slightly leaning shape

I saw a smile spread on your face

I had excuses ready then

But lost them when you reached for it

I only saw what I’d got wrong

What shade of blue did you see there?

What kind of mornings touched the rim

That leaned a little in your hands?

Long after it had left my own

Through seasons I had never seen

The gift I barely found the words for

Had found its place among your things

Until the summer light grew short

My fingers worked to find the curve

The closer that I came to it

The more I thought about that blue

More leaves were growing by your window

Rain fell on streets I didn’t know

There in the corner of each photo

I’d find it in a place of its own

Your winter message held few words

I reached up for the box I’d kept

This time, the blue had come out right

I almost told you so that night

“I’d like to keep this one a while”

It came back wrapped in folded paper

I laid the little pieces out

You’d kept each one, down to the smallest

When there was nothing by the window

On nights when you came home so late

It waited in the same old place

Through days no photograph could hold

I listened as you told me more

And ran a finger by the break

For me, it held a little spring

You knew the seasons after that

I only saw what I’d got wrong

Now I can see the blue you saw

The spring light moves along the rim

That leans a little in your hands

You trace a slender line of gold

The new one stands beside the old

The one I’d nearly hidden from you

Is right in front of me today

I only saw what I’d got wrong

Now I can see the blue you saw

The spring light moves along the rim

That leans a little in your hands

I brought along unfinished work

And left it out for you to see

We talked of what we’d serve on it

The blue you loved looks good to me