“Seek a Lighter Hue”
Seek a lighter hue in pastel conversation,
Hoards of daily mass conversion
Of the every act to some point in time, a little light diversion;
The mirage, the art a while, and for the mind a choice illusion,
An arbitrary sunset clause for replenishing, the flag unfurled
In the early hours of mint and red carnations and the dawn’s early munch
To satisfy the need to fill a shallow hour’s shadow till we lunch.
She knows she needs but say the word–
I’m gone–with no one near enough to hear her scream
While in the downshift here fickle seasons deem
It time to shrink that auspicious moment to a tight knot. If the Gorgon stays
She’ll have her way with nothing left to say.
Did she really think it wise to mitigate the circumstance of every rule
With aphorisms stitched on store-bought linens primed for workmanship on
Cloth, the only real estate, the final use for all those golden spools?