Life overtakes all. Moss coats stone; vines smother shrubs; trees straddle walls. All growing in splotched patterns of green -- a million shapes of leaf in a million subtly different shades. My world is awash in green. My mind is soothed by deep greens, and fired by the bright light-greens of fresh growth. My periphery swirls and blurs with green. a mossy stone becomes my focal point, the fringe blurs
The jungle paints the ruins green —
brown blocks are made verdant.
So, you can’t see its ordered shape
’til you part the curtain
of palms and vines and mammoth leaves
that hide those old remains —
once hacked back by muscled men who,
daily, took great pains
to clear the rampant jungle growth
out beyond moat and berm.
‘Til the invading army won,
and Fort was deemed infirm.
a crow caws
standing on a stout post
black eye watching
a child wonders,
beyond this rainy valley,
is it white?
but mushrooms sprout
wet forest floor
lonely bus stop
one man waits for a nearly
streaks of blue
viewed through cloudy skies
a bird hops
some shades of green
& some oranges
zap my brain into a kindergarten
the bright green LEDs of a post-neon sign
fire the context of a memory into my mind
there must be some long forgotten object–
a childhood artifact?
like the residue of a dream,
or is it gut-stomp synesthesia?
Taken in Cuzco in the Summer of 2010.