this peculiar light

early evening paling

thinly clothed,

a charlatan stolen from

this morning’s pocket,

I scowl with disbelief at

the cracked willow

bark framed in blue

juxting with each blink

copper grey, grey copper

back and forth,

I stare intently

to stop blinking,

there it goes again

switch, swap, change

copper grey, grey copper

like someone indecisively

choosing paint

from a chart,

finally, the choice made

it rests to grey, lead

amongst the dark,

the sky framed taupe

the pattern set

© Graham R Sherwood 11/24