Michael J. Kolb

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The Yellowing

It begins in the eyes.
Not all at once,
but along the whites,
as with paper
that sits too long
in a drawer.
The color spreads to the skin:
not sun-touched,
but tinted strangely,
a shade between bruise
and surrender.
Then tiredness,
sand poured
into bones.
An unrelenting itch,
something restless
crawling under the skin,
flaring 
everywhere.
Even sleep
tastes of rust.
By morning,
my nails have found me
before I do.
I hold my hand
to the light.
The color answers.

Michael J. Kolb is a poet, educator, and archaeologist based in Colorado.  He writes across disciplines, exploring nature, memory, and illness, asking what we carry and what we leave behind. His collection What Keeps Me Looking Out the Window was a finalist for the 2026 Press 53 Award. His poems have appeared in The Shore, Third Wednesday, ONE ART, Sky Island Journal, Eunoia Review, San Antonio Review,  Trampoline, The Ekphrastic Review, and elsewhere. He lives with his family and dogs where the mountains, shoreline, and changing weather continually shape his sense of place. 

Find him on Instagram at @michaeljkolb and on Substack at substack.com/@michaeljkolb.