What seems like an answer to a question
may appear behind the leaves whose color
is finally revealed across a long season of waiting.
Conversation with the whirling, complex colors
of the kaleidoscope can dance from one meaning
to another across the lengthening of shadows.
When I was young I scribbled across the lines
because I wanted so very badly for colors
to move beyond the boundaries set by time.
The colors we color now don't have to feel
like questions hurrying us across the roads
that we have made loving what we have lost.
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