a mustard scarf.

A mustard scarf.

There are no stars tonight.
'Though the moon slowly grows,
And glows through mist laden clouds
That casts a circular rainbow.
A watercolour, bleeding in the rain.
And I am cold.
Oh how I ache for the lost warmth of a mustard scarf.
So long, I could wrap it
Once.
Twice.
Thrice around my neck.
So thick, it muffled against my ears
And swung comfortingly against my chest
In bright, custard yellow swags of joy.
But it is gone.
Lost.
Missing.
Left behind.
Unseen but remembered.
Like the stars.

#napowrimo15