Technicolor
Pouring down from the sky
like magic, the opposite of disappearing
ink I fall in droplets, beads, brush strokes,
and paint your world from dusty cocoa,
sandy brown sugar, to rich devil's food
cake and dark wet coffee grounds. Muted
shades of washed out yellow blaze into
brights of grassy, sun-drenched greens.
The flowers bloom, the bees buzz, the
grass grows, and the trees are alive
because I fall.
No comments:
Post a Comment