Like Copper in Reverse

Green
Before it turned golden
Before it turned on us;
Before it broke

I won't be home before 8
She said
I have veins the color of soil and
my hands are done tied

I have soil the color of veins
And it runs and it runs
Like water through our heads,
and through our hands

We never know that we're making it.
Mistakes the color of wine
that hold us to our words
our strong, powerful chords

Our words the color of ink
It is right, finally
I run my hands through them
And try a couple on

Perky, intense, beautiful,
pockmarked
Only one fits

We are old we are the color of
dirt that comes up under us and
down into us and pushes through
us pushing pushing daisies
pushing