No Color But Snow

§ April 2nd, 2013 § Filed under life around us, National Poetry Month, overhead, sonnet, the creative process § Tagged , , , , , § 2 Comments

No Color But Snow

The dark is just lifting as I back out
the sky an impossible blue
the tree tops ahead are tipped in pink
the hills to my right turn gold.
to the south, clouds tilting at the east;
to what seems north, clouds full of light
bright with morning,
colors no one has seen til this moment,
the day opens up like a lid revealing
I think the April show is over but ahead
the hills are wrapped in clouds
with no color but snow.
In the parking lot, my last swig of coffee
while the red fills my closed eyes.
2 April 2013

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