WHITE, BLACK, COLORS
He seizes on the merge of trees with sky,
hoping it will void the need he has felt
ever since he started to remember--
the need to rescue comfort from the frame
around anxiety, the white hello
from a black and decomposing gesture of
departure, loss:
the need he felt when first
his parents stayed away and he was sure
that they had gone for good, kidnapping
the warmth that softened all the space he knew.
But autumn leaves anneal and in each moment
separate from branches, casting colors
on the blue like headless drunken painters
as they fall, never to return.
