The intent of auburn she always wears turquoise
simply and nothing else rarely
I love her best in astringent ether on tight lean lines
we extend a single pivot deep and low
more adrift than punctuate, solitude for two
Our clouds come in many colors
but still go, who knew the storm before that stayed
surely it rained a little sometime now and maybe less than later
I’d seen her on rooftops and feared she’d fall
she dropped once and I dreamed of bridges afar
where I’d fly though I had no cause to crash
on any but my own terms
How easy to have stayed aloft
to find her updraft if I dared
to release, let the guide wires catch
in graceful vines overhead
instead I fell bowed low in salted air
awash in radiation
The day
bakes me
I lose awareness in descent
over the surface tension of roiling water
instantaneous dreams of fall mix with actual falling
a swirl in the darkness between images is neither sight nor thought then
but something else awash in the eddies
Insight rather
into the nature of falling
and who we’ve come to be
And we’re not
till we’re here
then we’re not
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 