blue

sometimes blue isn’t blue
sometimes
it’s tart, like buckets of summer berries
or roaring, like the rain outside the window
sometimes
it’s soft, like the stream gently singing behind my grandparent’s house
like morning bird song
bubbling, bright, alive
like the trout that swims
the duck that flies
blue is water
and feather
and sky
life giving
heart soothing
a blue tear falls into blue water and suddenly my sadness is felt by the earth
absorbed by her
the stream cries with me
then releases my sadness to the soil
who gives it to the plants
who gives it to the sky
who returns it to the earth
in the storm
my anger
the dew
my forgiveness
the mist over ocean
my hope
sometimes blue isn’t blue
sometimes blue is a mirror
sometimes blue is a vein
your sorrow my sorrow
my sorrow your sorrow
made into flowers

—

Fern Crossway is a conservation biologist, writer, creative, and educator working with endangered butterflies in New England and the Pacific Northwest. She obtained her BS from SUNY College of Environmental Science and Forestry and is currently pursuing her PhD at the University of Washington. Fern’s work is centered in ecology and ecofeminism and her writing often explores the relationship between women and nature, and the parallels between the subjugation of women and environmental destruction.