Colour of light

Light, the subtlest magic,
the tinged fingers of shadow,
prismed seeping from hue to hue,

a rose petal blushed pink gold,
and falling palest lemon,
white browned with the age of dying,

blue indigo ipomea—
look again—the purples curl fuchsia,
clenched anemones,

evening grass,
gilding the green,
elusive reptilian, amber-eyed.

Where did they go,
the certainties of painted palettes?

Into the wind with ephemera and spring-song,
the dew drops drunk by new turned earth.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

12 thoughts on “Colour of light”

    1. I find it hard to get a grip on colours. They change when you look at them closely, or as the light changes. Blue becomes red, red orange, yellow green, and at twilight they all change again.

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