reflective
reflection
like some glistening pool
throwing my face back into it
(taking off the blinders
that I so desperately want to hold to.)

impressions
are simply that;
impressionistic, a view
(no matter how distorted)
like black on white or the opposite.

impressions
(from toe to heel in the sand,
too quickly washed away)
are left on my subconscious
like a colorless photo
in an old, broken frame.

Silhouettes
(against the red-and-yellow
streaked sky)
stand out like sore thumbs
pain and trials, joy and laughter
(each intricate and needed
like a thorn or splinter)
reminding us, reminding me
that even if all we can see is gray
the silhouette's, the black and white,
are what keep us grounded

they keep us, keep me,
basking in the color
that would seem otherwise
without pigment
without hope.

04/07/2002

Posted on 04/07/2002
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