Tuesday, February 21, 2017

About colours


Such as it was, it couldn’t continue, colourless to the core
Cadaverous, unnoticeable, un-living

Shop-window reflection of an ashen winter coat
Too short and bulky, duskily unflattering in its static weight

Until a bus came to go elsewhere, emerged in red
Burning, rose-rising, bleeding

Move to a better place closer to the rainbow
Unmoved or unmoveable without hue

Now on the red bus, moving
Into a place luminous and glowing

French burgundy stain on a white blouse
Polished toe nails inflamed with fiery hope

So what is the final tint?
Blush and blossom and glint



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