In a variegated way-
it whispers, being
between the green and cerise.
The faint curls into light
The noise and resonant hinge-
lingered ’til the next breathing sound,
upon which it leans
hasty and crimson into
collections of cadence.

And hushed, redemption
mixes with the blushed-
a new shade of stillness.

Poet’s note – Lest someone reading think that I can’t spell. I wrote this, and then couldn’t think of a title. The poem seemed a bit uneven to me, as I attempted blend sound and color and feeling. I’m not sure I achieved any of it. The whole thing seemed very erratic to me…oh wait… a pun. Great idea.

3 thoughts on “erratic

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