March 18, 2014

Like A Red Verb Over the Snow



The Cardinal

Not to conform to any other color
is the secret of being colorful.

He shocks us when he flies
like a red verb over the snow.

He sifts through the blue evenings
to his roost.

He is turning purple.
Soon he'll be black.

In the bar's dark I think of him.
There are no cardinals here.

Only a woman in a red dress.
 
--Henry Carlile

1 comment:

Emily M. said...

Lucia, I LOVE this image. And the perfect poem to go with it.