Nothing Gold stays and everything Green goes with it.
Dusk Orange paints the silhouetted yawn of a Great Blue Heron
Atop a rock the drought announced.
Sailboats float the Indigo under a Great Orange Blue sky,
Slide the serene by the Great Grey Bluebird.
Autumn wears an Every-Color shawl starved for Green envious of Blue.
Fires Orange at the sky, the heron, the Blue bottomed boats.
But Indigo eats even Autumn- though she spends her fire fast.
Nights come quick now. Nothing lasts faster now.
I should take a picture.
But what good are words if the world
Is only contour lines full of color?
What good is color without words
To celebrate each tint and hue?
How do we talk about the light
Without a language for the light?
The scene is worth a photograph.
Take my word for it.