When the tired sun lays down his blue shadows
across the ridgéd land and under trees
lines across the folly of man’s highways
marking out the edges of their abodes
making his way to mountains lavender,
I gather the sky up with my fingers
holding it up in the gently cupped palms
looking at it with my eyelids burning
I place together my favorite hues
the lemon and the melon and the berries
the orange and the beet-like pinks so bright
the mango yellow with the barrow greys
Thrown on blue as the sun looks back once more
I’ll come back, come back, come back tomorrow.
You sure have a way with words and colors