I would wear you like a mood ring
but I fear you would still be just as unpredictable
I lose myself in the obsession of your colors
your mood ever-changing upon my hand
I could only hope to understand your needs
but with each color that blends into it
I realize I could never fully grasp you
but I think I’ll keep it with me for reference
although the color is like mixed paint
brown upon my finger.
The voice erupts and rumbles
a God behind glass
but he comes at a price
and we are indebted
to the bright light that blinks
or the collection plate being passed around
I watch the boy holds up his dollar
sticking it into the machine
as he shifts side to side and awaits his fortune
I guess we all look for answers
some on a boardwalk, a carnival, or on a pew.
©2021 Ashley L. Cooke All rights reserved.
Ashley L. Cooke is an English undergrad at CSULB. She lives in Long Beach CA. You can find her work at various online journals including Rye Whiskey Review and Bold Monkey, she was also poet of the month for Moontide Press.