I think there’s pale, storm blue.
And a handprint or two. In black, but gentle, not graffiti-like.
I hear green breathing in and giving back.
Soft fibers that fell from all over. Reminders of the eyes and hands behind them.
Amber inviting throughout the space.
Smiles. Wisdom-teaching smiles, that comfort and Save.
Hard-covered poetry within arms reach.
Wooden bowls, filled for friends, beside the window that’s right where it’s needed.