The woman in yellow

F e b r u a r y  1 5 , 2 0 1 6

There's a yellow little old lady. I seldom see her. But when I do, she's dressed in yellow from head to toe. From the ground up, yellow toes encased in yellow shoes wrapped in yellow laces. Feet kept warm in yellow socks trimmed with yellow lace. Pants of the most brilliant yellow skimmed with yellow stitching. A sweater of soft yellow under a raincoat made of yellow. Hands are adorned with yellow polish which glimmer in the company of her yellow bag. She tops it off with a hat in tones of darling yellow. And her light hair glows of a feverish yellow under all the yellowness of her presence.

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