blue is a nice color

the boy at the window,
and I say boy,
only because he is so much younger
than I am,
although he may be twenty,
or even older,
but the boy,
making me coffee and taking
the change from my
hand says,
are you painting today?

I nod, yes. I am.
I can see it on your hands,
he says.
on your face.
your hat. you shirt.
I look down and smile.
he tells me that he'll be
painting his room
tomorrow on his day off.

he's getting married, he tells
me in the few minutes
that we have.
she picked out a blue, he
says, and she wants to make
clouds out of white,
like the sky.

blue is a nice color, I tell him.
i'm happy for you.

and I truly am, as I see
the joy and hope in his eyes,
so young, so new to this world
and what it will bring.

I take my coffee from his hand
and drive off.
there is more work to do.