Bright white sheets
they pride themselves on
And to me
they are tempting
They look like
a blank canvas
waiting to become
tie dyed pillowcases
Jackson Pollack sheets
a bedspread to rival
Picasso’s best work
or maybe Da Vinci
I’ll turn the shower curtain
into a Degas
modeling the ballerina
on myself in my teen years
I’ll use the towels
pure as snow
to sponge paint the sink
and the bathtub
and the closet doors
And I’ll never ever leave.

——

This poem was written in a gorgeous but very white hotel room. It is my poem of the day- I am writing one poem every day in April because it is National Poetry Month, and this is my favorite of the month.