DID I DO WHAT I WAS SENT HERE TO DO?

Did I do what I was sent here to do?
Was that color crayon chartreuse
or only plain-jane green?
Should I have worn peacock feathers,
painted my eyes cerulean?
I think peacocks and peahens
would make better children
than children, running to me
and screaming as I carry
my bucket of corn.
A doll's teacup and saucer --
Who ever had so much to starve on?
(A chipped saucer, chartreuse lip
peeking beneath the enamel.)
What happened to the doll,
to her turquoise eyes that fluttered open
whenever I picked her up?
If I leave now, who will gather
my children at nightfall?
Who will collect all these feathers
floating like snow from the floors above?
Who will call colors by their right names?