Jesus swings his heavy arm
Sometimes, I wonder in the recesses
Walk, walk with a diamond broach upon your lapel
Turn and talk to the woman on your right.
Take a moment to check a clock
Set it back to front, firmly
Grasp the hand when extended
Listen closely for skittering animals.
Running across the flat slate roof
Soft grey clouds pass along a powdery blue sky
I wonder what the color-blind man sees
Looking up, does he cry?
Tears are fat and wet with salt
Then absorb, pain recedes, recurs, redolent
An interior monologue revisits a childhood
Sadness will find a mate in a fierce, fearsome widower.
A path appears at the edge of a meadow
To one side a red and yellow bird screetches
To one side a green grass snake hisses, slithers, flicks its tongue
Can the color-blind man see the arm waving him on?
BillSaysThis 