One day I am thinking of a color

Orange is the happiest color,
said the man with blue eyes. Orange glows
somewhere deep inside my skin. Orange,
smiles the pumpkin in the autumn chill.
Orange grabs the attention
and annoys, too. Orange burns
and burns; orange has always burned.
Orange reminds me of the earth
we all came from long, long ago. Orange holds
yellow between red. Orange is the only color
that names a fruit; how original:
the yellow citrus is a lemon,
the green one a lime,
and that orange one, well,
what the hell are we going to call that one?
Orange is not most people’s favorites,
but it is mine.
Orange hangs like a desert sun
at dusk. Orange rises like a city
sun at dawn. Orange stares
through the tiger. Orange stalks the fox.
Orange follows the monarch butterfly up
into the air. Orange is courage. Orange is a sign
of home. Orange is a sign of danger.
Orange haunts the forest
after the last leaf has fallen. Orange
warns and warms and welcomes.
Orange builds the highway.
Orange imprisons.
Orange jumps for joy.