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