lawless colors

our ancestors
lawless colors all
are manifest --- folds in a blanket,
     some extreme, like gunpowder ---
ripe but for the fresh intervals of nothing
a cow leaning against a calf, his
mother, grooming, not noticing this once
(as always) the imperceptible halt of the slanted sun
her afternoon rays gracing a meringue, left out to dry
we are sad trumpetfish, drying also, hung in the wind
saddles

our ancestors
lawless colors all :::
but the law of less color
thus colored, draws
some variety of picture not worth infusing
with hope or a rapturous goodbye
between fishermen a winter dock
casting rods

our ancestors
lawless colors all
do delude us, recede
even as we chase them
their memories
like tourniquets choking off blood
to the torn hearts of tomorrow

our ancestors
lawless colors all

ours the land of lawless colors
green gray and sunshine muted
a grassland of treacherous thieves
& gunhounds