Color Is To Do Everything
by Carmen Germain

Five days of rain and now this clean morning
pulse of pure light— luminous on the sill
the peacock plume’s iridescent blue-green.
Whenever I gaze at it, said Darwin,
makes me sick, its inexplicable art
grounded in the functional universe.
Silent chickadees stab gray weeds for seed.
By noon leaden clouds weigh the valley dull.
Battling gloom I load my yellow brush
wild hue burning like southern sun. Why we
stirred red ocher with bison fat, painted
Lascaux with reeds, and pebbles shaped like birds.
Shells evolving from Miocene oceans
to bones, to hands that abandoned the sea.

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 17, Issue 3.

placesaver2Carmen Germain is the author of These Things I Will Take with Me (Cherry Grove). Recent work has appeared in Poet lore, The Comstock Review, and The Naugatuck Review. She lives in Washington state and northern British Columbia.

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