What is Brown?

The following poem is taken from Hailstones and Halibut Bones - a book about colors - by Mary O'Neill. It looks long, but it reads quickly. I promise it's worth the time.

What is brown?

Brown is the color of a country road
Back of a turtle
Back of a toad.
Brown is cinnamon
And morning toast
And the good smell of
The Sunday roast.
Brown is the color of work
And the sound of a river,
Brown is bronze and a bow
And a quiver.
Brown is the house
On the edge of town
Where wind is tearing
The shingles down.
Brown is a freckle
Brown is a mole
Brown is the earth
When you dig a hole.
Brown is the hair
On many a head
Brown is chocolate
And gingerbread.
Brown is a feeling
You get inside
When wondering makes
Your mind grow wide.
Brown is a leather shoe
And a good glove -----
Brown is as comfortable
As love.

*sigh* I want to write like that. I want to take something as ordinary as brown and make it extraordinary. I want to see everyday things in deeply creative ways - "Brown is a feeling/You get inside/When wondering makes/Your mind grow wide."

If you want to feel your writing brain grow two sizes bigger, read Hailstones and Halibut Bones (the title comes from the color white). My favorite line comes from green: "Green is the fuzz/ That covers up /Where winter was." Wow. She refers to pink as the "little sister of red" and to purple as pink's great grandmother. She assigns every color a sound and a smell and a feeling, and it feels perfect - every. single. time.

I want to write like that.

What makes your writing brain feel like it's grown two sizes?