Purple Pall

by Rebecca Cheong. Monoprint by Michael Krasowicz.

Purple promises swept in by the tide;

The violets veil the bloom that’s come & died.

Nature, she no longer directs this

art. The sun

It’d never make, no matter

how fast the mind might run.

It must be strange, then,

for who’d have thought

Binding ties are time-worn

lies — still, it’s sought.

So convincing,

those parts of

play — can’t tell

Floating clouds from

fluff cloaked in purple pall.

Such earnestness is but a

devious guise —

So what? Rainbows don’t

visit the clear skies.