27

27, dark blue nearly black,
Like a sour blueberry,
a never-ending, tiring journey,
a long unwinding road.

27, dark blue nearly black,
like a sour blueberry,
a taste of strong whisky that burns,
a gun shot, a bomb,
loud then silent devastation.
A hard slap across the face.
A cold bitter miserable day. Icy.

27, dark blue nearly black,
like a sour blueberry,
a little girl letting go of her mother's hand,
knowing she'd never see her again.
Like a toffee, hard that slowly dissolves.
A bee sting.

27 lives in my heart.
27, dark blue nearly black,
like a sour blueberry.