Scott Simpson · Poetry

Colors

A Hush Between Seasons · printed pages 5–6

The original line breaks, stanza spacing, and placement are preserved. Long lines scroll horizontally.

Source page 5

COLORS

This green

sinks into the old pines,

spruce layered

at the edge of El Cielo—

northern New Mexico—

drifting

toward blue

without urgency.

It settles

behind my eyes,

frames the mind,

sparks

almost white

where light catches

the edge of thought.

It doesn’t ask for meaning.

Only this—

a drift of color

becoming dream,

becoming motion,

a hand lifted

or maybe

a note hummed

into the last of the sun.

Source page 6

Something small,

drawn out

like breath

through wet bristles—

part of the spectrum

now.

SCOTT SIMPSON

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