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
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