Yellow

The old woman

All dressed up

Sighs and

Takes to writing

In a

Yellow notebook.

Not exactly

Lesson learned –

Her skin is pale

Like the moon,

Easily burned

By golden rays

If she were not

So very fair,

Would life be easier?

Would it be

Beautiful,

Painted in golds?

She can't remember

Much about her past

But she does remember

History class

In High School –

Black and Yellow.

She very vaguely,

Faintly recalls

Protest marches

And Yellow signs

And women's rights,

And Susan B. Anthony

And she mutters

"Why can't I be

More like that?"