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Paint
April 30, 2013
The spider’s silk dribbles and drops
Wisping like a whisper in the wind.
Color so dull, it makes everything bright.
Why such detail in a colorless place?
Why can I not see my own face?
Who stares back at me with those eyes?
Reflection, shattered by lies.
Infection of beauty spreads from the very seam,
Reality
Fatality
Finality
Reflected colors in the suits of cards.
The triumph of color in my colorless world.
The chessboard, Unrecognizable
Sixty four squares of infinite color
And the spider wisps with his strand of life,
His color… is still white.
© Michael W., Niskayuna, NY
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