As she looked out, she thoughtSkip to next paragraph
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that one might say
the day had tried to snare her
into sharing its gray.
What was it about
the mystique of colors
that often challenged explanation:
the eyes of mariners, so often blue,
seeming to draw their color from the sea
and the hands of gardeners, deep bronze:
sun-browned to match the color of the earth.
each species harboring its secrets
as in the world of flowers:
forget-me-nots, at first bright yellow,
later showing that their truer hue was blue;
and a species of hibiscus, white at dawn,
turning pink at noon, and then by sunset,
changing to a bold and brilliant scarlet.
The color of truth, Gide said, is gray.
And yet, she was sure
the color of truth, too,
was in the beholder's view:
a color not pledged to stay one way -
as even the grayest
of a gray day's gray
could sometimes turn into
(by the grace of a slice of sun),
the most glittering gold
and the bluest blue.