Cosmological drop

It is the way of the cosmos
the way of conspiracies
beyond belief and shoreline
certain unions have color-signature
wind and water
tree and roadway
and other moving things
blueprint the memory of a moment.

It is customary...

It is customary to say
the leaves have fallen
for lost eyes see fallen leaves.
It is customary to say
the skies are dull
for lost eyes forget blue.
It is customary to say
the sun has set
[which it frequently does]
in the manner of a news alert
for lost eyes forget direction.
It is customary to say
life was but is no longer
for lost eyes lose track of time.
But no!
There is life and breathing
sunlight and blue
leaves in tender green
all this is true
it must be said
with a footnote
raising question
though clear
a one-word end-note:
"but".

Green and Blue

There are incredible greens
and I've seen them everywhere
but nothing like those approaching Kegalle
on certain sunlight-angled mornings,
blue too
crayons and pattern
on a little girl's dress
peacocks and mountains
and blues
of music and despondency
blue of a rising tide
and an emerging sky
there are blues and greens
on color palettes
eye-straining variation
but nothing distilled
and turned into ink
like the lime green freshness
of words and silence
the turquoise blue embrace
of evening and stolen moment.

Missing voices

Missing voices
miss buses and deadlines
they walk
to lines alive
and there they stop speaking --
they sing.