Choosing Yellow.(Poem)

 
CHOOSING YELLOW 
 
   Because I've insisted on yellow you write saying 
   porsche yellow's your favourite, define it as the buttercup 
   of Hohenzollern blended with Hapsburg's rich 
   egg yolk, want to know which shade I prefer 
   Immediately I see 
 
   my child self plunging 
   hands into the dandelion ranks bugling brightness 
   from the dirt pavement of steep Golf Road, 
   pulling fat pink stems, 
 
   my paint brush 
   stroking a cowslip yellow cube and, laden 
   with nectar, filling the outlines of suns, fairytale 
   caskets, 
 
   the petals we sold as butter 
   on the paint-needy bench by the barbed wire 
   field opposite our house while far below 
   the great grey slugs of warships sat motionless 
   on the Clyde's highway. 
 
   An echo of that yellow 
   on my kitchen cupboards which like the past 
   are always clicking open. The colour's stronger 
   than the lemon 
 
   I've seen infiltrating the hard 
   green fruits on Andalusian trees, quieter 
   than the skin of the one lemon plump with zest 
   in my larder. When I cut: slices it stings 
   my nicked finger, 
 
   resurrects the striped curtains 
   with uneven hems I made years ago 
   to keep the kitchen from heat's ...