Saturday, August 30, 2014

Saturday Poetry

Antichromatic by Pamela Alexander

A few people had gone out to see if the trees
were still there, and they were, which made us feel safe
for a moment. Then they said (panting, because the had hurried)
that the trees were no longer lit by sunlight
on their tops and sides, nor were they green any more. 
We knew that the animals has left long ago, quietly,
species by species, the way they board the Ark
in the ancient story. What we didn't know, hadn't seen
with our color vision and convolutions
of our blue-grey brains, was when the birds left---
the toucans and yellow parrots, the cockatoos
and scissor-tailed fly-catchers--they took all the colors. 
Of course we should have known, we told each other,
it's reasonable, they had the most to lose.  Then
we didn't know what to do. 

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