What makes you think
It will disappear
When you tell it to,
That it will fade
If you close your eyes?
What makes you think
The images will stop
Changing form and color;
That the birds that hover around your head
Will fly away?
What makes you think
Your words will heal, kill, purify,
Resurrect, or chain to graves
All colors that change
From green to red, to orange, from black to blue to gray?
Not to white
Not to white
What makes you think
You can wash all colors in the rain
And expect a white canvas
To throw colors again?
What makes you think
All colors will remain frozen
And not change
Within the wall
You build around it?
1 comment:
Your poems always make one think. In this one the last stanza encloses a world of meaning, the thought is so elegantly stated:
"What makes you think
All colors will remain frozen
And not change
Within the wall
You build around it?"
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