Color Cannot Survive

The world is locked behind fringed window blinds.
Quiet monotones destabilize sunset.
Color cannot survive this faltering warmth.
I suffer shadows gladly for your sake.

Your handsome touch intangible as smoke
Paints dusk into the corners of my mind.
Fingers brush snow into my consciousness.
Let us compare frost pictures for an hour.

Previously published; Voices Israel

by Sandra Fowler

Comments (24)

Rainbows dissappear, too.I must wait till the next one.
Fingers brush snow into my consciousness. sandraji, the above line sends chill one my spinal code.........
I found the imagery fragile and awesome at the same time. The intimacy of the tactile sense came through very strongly for me - fingers brush snow into my consciousness as did the gentle irony of the closing line. A beautiful and complex poem!
the setting colors of memories too have a beauty of their own but they won't survive long merging into the darkening shadows that fall on the mind's window create a sad but sweet poetic atmosphere with your soft imageries, Sandra...well wrtten piece...10
For 27 years I lived with a man who always kept the curtains drawn. I fancied he must have been a mole in a previous life. In summer, his excuse was to keep the heat out. In winter, to keep the heat in. For some reason this poem reminds me of this man and his fear of life and the warmth and loyalty of his friendship and the brilliance of his mind. I was happy to 'suffer shadows gladly for (his) sake.' Your melancholy is always written with such warmth Sandra. This one touched me especially. love, Allie xxxx
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