A Wednesday Poem
(For A Young Man In Need Of Color)
Following my eyes
I keep leading myself
to intersections:
A rich oasis
nestled in the hollow
between scrub-mowed corn fields
A stream running
below a shallow arc in the road
A flat horizon pulled taught
across an expanse of deep clay
suspended within the body
of this lake
a mustard invitation
to the promise of green
a red crescent
drawn below the eye
of a fish out of water…
Color
found
at the edges of things
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