Blue is the colour of the sea,

of muted grays and faded jeans.

Like faded skies,

Or deep blue eyes;

yours is the colour of blue.

The velvet mornings

drawn out upon the endless stretch of time

Like paint flaked planks,

They once shined new.

And in this ephemeral dream

I pretend that my strength will make a difference,

But even the strongest crumble,

Like dust,

Like stone,

Like flour blown from the hand.

The Indian spat pigment against the wall,

That rude expression of his inner soul

Leaving behind a pattern

That told nothing,

that told all.

A  falling leaf,

A running game,

Laughter broke the silence,

A stone fell in the pond.

The sun was falling below the horizon,

Trees rustled in a light breeze,

I could spend eternity,

But I don’t have that long.