Colorblind
Purple becomes
grey-Scale
that hearkens wandering eyes and searchful graces.
Roosters beckon the harbinger of death and roses;
guns and purses toyed with half-hearted ambition,
‘til stops start the jams,
spreading over a walled garden.
Where does the ant have his breathe,
When the winter stares its face,
When the splinter breaks his pace?