I yellowed when you scowled at me
on the open plain as we grayed large buffalo.
Once they had red themselves,
My face blued over and over, shaking and dancing.
Had we been able to green instead,
perhaps nothing would have needed mixing.
We moved on, orangeing the tee-pees from the ground
and pinking the harmony of the Earth with grit.
I look beyond, ahead and behind at the
ground which we blacked so miserably.
I feel much better when we violet something;
the hue is forceful yet wise, unlike other hues.
I slept inside and while we browned,
time stood still and peace surrounded us again.