CHANNILLO
Green
Series Info | Table of Contents
Colors come alive as my father drives
along curves and bends on old
forgotten roads.
Trees push past with urgency,
stitch their hues together,
almost one,
almost hemlock, almost pine,
douglas, cedar, spruce,
chroma blurs,
swelling as one flame,
alive and pulsing
like fire
crackles behind wooded pyres.
Flames lick the sky,
scarlet red,
its heat pulls to embrace,
to be something more in my soul
than just itself;
there is no other name for green.
C.A. Gallinger 6/14/18 10:48 AM
This is such a gorgeous piece! Such a vibrant picture you have painted with your words.Celaine Charles 6/15/18 1:05 AM
Thank you for commenting, I appreciate the encouragement. I'm hoping to grow this series into something wonderful.
Brya Vowels 6/01/18 11:50 AM
A poem I think we all can relate to - absolutely gorgeous.Celaine Charles 6/15/18 1:00 AM
Thank you, it's very special to me. And I still blur my eyes sometimes when driving along nature.:)
Celaine Charles 6/01/18 9:13 AM
My first poem for this series. It should be a tercet, with spaces between stanzas of three lines until the final one stands alone. But, hey, working out the kinks. I couldn’t be happier to begin sharing my work with you. Make it a colorful day. ~CCCelaine Charles 6/02/18 12:43 AM
The lines are all fixed... it's reading properly now. Thanks Channillo helpdesk!