Warning Yellow

Not buttercup, not soft, sunlit haze.

This yellow was a shriek, a blare.

A fluorescent vest, caught in my gaze,

demanding attention, hanging there.

It was the color of a worried mind,

the caution tape around a broken space.

The harsh, flat light you leave behind,

that burns the edges of a hopeful face.

It held the memory of a waiting room,

the plastic chairs, the sterile smell.

That sick, bright color, chasing gloom

away, but not the feeling of unwell.

A loud, insistent, visual ache.

For goodness sake.