Here

The kaleidoscope
of the pine tree
is opening.

There is no where to go.

It umbrellas me
moment to moment –
I cannot escape its dance.

Tomatos
are fruiting their redness
like lighthouses

each bristle
on their flagpole stems
points to here with a ray of light.

I can taste the pure joy
of their becoming
in this silent conversation.

Everything is laughing
through my bones,
this cosmic joke.

No one gets out alive –
there is no outside.

 

Spectrum

I cadmium red you       even on
your lemon yellow days.      You scintillate
my quinacridone violets my cobalt violets
never leave me in alizarin crimson state.

You’re always permanent green light on the outside
even when you’re raw umber deep down
and you don’t spread your dioxazine purples
around.       When I was just a naples yellow

I dreamed only in sap green         since then
so much of my life has been lived in ultramarine.
You’ve always been there       cobalt bluing
alongside me         through our phthalo days.

We’ll have our alizarin pink time –
come find me in the quinacridone magenta haze.

 


Lucy Whitehead writes haiku and poetry. Her haiku have been published widely in various international journals and anthologies, and her poetry has appeared in Amethyst Review, Barren Magazine, Black Bough Poetry, Burning House Press, Collective Unrest, Mookychick Magazine, and Twist in Time Literary Magazine and is forthcoming in Electric Moon Magazine and Ghost City Review. Her Twitter handle is @blueirispoetry.

 

Banner Image: tackyshack via Flickr Creative Commons

Advertisements