Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Sunset poem

To the Person at the Crayola Company Who Names the Colors:

At five p.m. last Friday, fingers of light pried
apart the gray lid over the earth
until even the gray surrendered
to the pale green of an April apple-leaf.

It was that wild, outrageous shade of
the belly of one of those rain forest frogs
the shoulder of a peach in mid-August,
the kind with juice sweeter than honey
                           and speaking of honey
there was that in the color, too,
         the way the light filters through nectar,
                  by a million bees
                  in a billion flowers

and that color, that color, that color
alive, shot through with light,
it sliced its way through and shoved
the gray-turned-pale-green clear out to the horizon’s borders
holding all the sky’s middle, the whole thing to itself,

and it came on conquering
         banners snapping
         Hallelujah chorus blaring
         dragon breathing fire

                                    perfectly quiet
                                    perfectly still.

It was that color.


Dorothy said...

Beautiful imagery, Kathy. I love it!

JuliaKoponick said...

I have always loved this poem! Thanks for sharing it here! It was certainly a beautiful day. I am sorry we never got to go for a walk!