There is colour

There is colour

But it is a product

Of reflection

And so much is lost

In light absorption.

The meaning is clear

But lacks feeling

As the greens are

Lit with a golden kiss.

In the dapple down

Of the day

When hearts should dance,

Breathless promises

Bleed into rain hungry leaves

That curl at the edges

Before falling into the

Dry soil with

A martyr’s sigh.

So many greens

With different stories

Shout for attention,

Only to be ignored

In favour of

A blousy flower, proudly blooming

In confident display,

A temporary ascendancy.

It begins to die

Even as it unfurls

And in its finite

Exhibition

So the flaunt of photons

Pricks the slow compress

Of imagination

And the slippery leech

Of shades is consumed

By a host of shadows

Lost to light

Draining into dust,

Where ashes and yesterday’s

Memories

Wait, in perpetuity

Hoping to grow

Into dreams of tomorrow

And the colours of an ocean

Float in a tempest of

Mixed emotion

A deepening wash

Of ever green

Demanding

In subtle arbitration,

A reason to be seen.