in hues
glimpsed behind the cypress
azure sky-blue
rich like african skies and water-fresh
salvias engraved in air
and silkness, still
as a light lake of reflection
passively flat, a changeling
in tone from early to now.
windless, calmness clamed
preserved as frieze
I have seen green
turn red in the diminishing
rims, and still the pinkness
of rose insists
like a harbour
of duskness
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