March 4, 2009
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Orange infers from itself marigolds and their laughter,
A Monarch's wing, the apricot flesh, or clay,
An orange tabby cat with it's brown stripes,
Fresh marmalade melting on my toast like butter; sweet on my tongue,
A tangerine,
A carrot fresh from the garden,
My grandmother's kitchen tiles,
A pot-bellied man, rolling in the aisles.
The yoke of an egg, which is round and pure.

Orange is full,
Buttery, yet sharp.
Always playing, yet serious.
Orange engenders.

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