She felt strange perceptions
when she touched old crayons
from her childhood.
Lettering…strong and bright
on the battered box…
in a most unusual way.
A 6 emerged timberwolf gray,
and 4 was antique brass.
The C flipped greasy salmon pink,
while R throbbed auro metal saurus.
A spun electric blue in circles,
and bitter Y stretched inchworm green.
O smoked acrid burnt sienna,
while N dripped arsenic black.
Then S slid hissing into silver.
She blinked her eyes.
The crossed sensations faded.
It could mean migraine onset …
hereditary in her family…
or imagination tricked
back to remembered pathways.
4 thoughts on “Crayola Pathways”
This is beautiful. I love the idea of synesthesia…you’ve taken it a step further. And which of us doesn’t remember the delicious anticipation of a fresh box of 64 Crayolas…
It’s delightful when you respond, Sally. Thank you.
I’m a gonna get me a tube of ‘arsenic black’.
That’s too sad a color.