“What color?”
People ask me,
Their faces reflected in my
Eyes and squinting in the sun.
Eyes like small slits,
New cuts
In a child’s knee.
Seconds drip by slowly
And I offer the obligatory
Conclusion for simplicity’s
Sake. “Green.”
I invite the dissection of
This gaze with analytical instruments
Of cold steel.
Only dirty lakes
Wait for you here.
An army of brown spots
Invades navy scratches
In orbs. They wrestle,
Desperate hues, mixing
Vibrant blood to form
Questionable green.
Faded light
And film of gray
Envelopes iris islands.
But a heathery wash is the
Jealous brother of green in
The cruel spectrum display and
Staring too long leaves a
Sour taste.
What color?
The question echoes in my
Mind in this room
And escapes through cracked
Window to scrape the sleeping sky
But…It’s not important to me now.
And I close my eyes in a
Saturation of sun.