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In Isolation Room Three of the Home for Boys Who Had Unimaginable Crimes Committed Upon Them

The walls are a brilliant fresh green, the color of blackberry shoots
In March, you know what I mean, when they first emerge like tiny
Crowns for tiny kings, they are a shade of green that you could eat.
Green herons are that green sometimes, and violet-green swallows,
They are too, a luminescent green like a signal from another planet.
And sailors see green like that on old mother sea when the sun dies.
You wonder who decided to paint the walls the greenest green ever.
I bet no one picked this color because it was found to be restorative
Or anything psychological like that, I bet no one consulted a report
On color and healing, I bet no committee or study picked this color.
I bet the guy who painted this room just somehow knew what to do.
Sometimes, every once in a while, not very often, not often enough,
We know what to do. Maybe this brilliant green is how we get there.
—Brian Doyle