Ekphrasis
Blues Fade to Frost
2nd Saturday prompt: let the image lead you
bones made of water, veins spewing fire — my fingers reach to grasp
but my blues inundate any remaining crimsons simmering inside
out, out, I cry, as the spots, seeming to swallow each other whole
turn to beasts — expanding/contracting, panning in/panning out of focus
my reds turn orange, blues fade to frost, invading my peripheral
vision as they march, in tune, always in tune
and the spots, did I mention the spots? create a crow-like murder in my velvety wake — then, mollifying the sight of the birds, their caw-caws
becoming inaudible, I now see them mocking me, then cajoling
with compliments, enticing me to join them — take flight
my water fountain day now a geyser-splitting night, and I
can't help but see, as one honeycomb abyss multiples into a swarm
no, a herd galloping near, oh-so-near — and the popping exploding in my head — it couldn’t possibly be coming from the ears — or could it?
and before I know it, I’m sucked in — my breath bubbling,
my tongue tied, and as trepidation takes hold…
