the Imperfect Weight of Color


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Caught the eye of a stray color…

passing by!

Had to hold down the thought.

Put a handle to the feel.

Why?

What of this homeless rainbow fray?

Is it the recurring nightmare that calls to be heard?

To be written down frantically?
As thou, it were a spy?
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Free expression?
A matter of…
do or die!
 ⇔
What of?
Those drawn to flowery phases?
It is,
after all,
Some of the
tastiest samples…
to ever taste.
 ⇔
Defining the art of humans
and
their waste.
A restless fisherman
and
his pole…
both dangling out in the cold.
Relocated visions that have no home.
Welfare of many out in the woods.
Each of which…
rummaging around under mother nature’s hood.
 ⇔
I wonder how a colorless weight must feel?
Lost in hectic, translation.
It must lose some conformed appeal.
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