Life-Alive

Splashing through

My bedroom window, light

Spilling into waves of summer (wafting green):

I watched Time’s hand

Pluck the monochrome from my childhood, and

Send me hurtling bright and bold into the future.

Still, there is no rest

From the silent, absent deep. The

murderous grey.

They will crush you like leaves

Crackling under their shoe.

Greens and reds and yellows crumpled

Into small dots on the pavement’s surface-

En route to mediocrity.

En route to hate.

In the greying time of

Relative morality,

I come for the first time

An adult (like a child)

With goldenrod, peaches, browns, plums

On my tongue

Soaking my eyes and skin.

Alive, bold in the face of their monochrome contracts

Ink and quill, devil-dealing reality.

Real is delivered by Will.

Life-alive, we in color, are hand in hand.

A unity persistent, chewing at the blade of darkness.