I would cry more in lilac, pine less in lavender, yearn greater on the ride over and off the Sad Bridge this time should there be a next time I will feel more over the bumps surely for if only and only once a finer young fern-green and a more tickle-yellow is a shock of spring in the gray and she is the meadow - I have come to frolic, to play on the heather, in the haystacks, the heat of the closing day, leaves to cool the eaves of the taller barns her eyes catch two separate colors, in late-day light slants pink and I am awash in the oncoming amber bathe cc: Chagall 2021
