Naming Color

Flowers dry on cotton,

Are seen as satin

Dresses are white

Starched and wrinkled

After use

After Desdemona's sheets are laid fresh in this elevated breeze

Or wind? Or willow?

It is that ghost who haunted the line shelving this forest

And screaming

And immortalizing

Like it were a storm

There,

Unshaken manifestations

Hiding beneath this green

Velvet ground

Sunken by spring

And smelling of a lily bouquet

Blessing the already taken

Harvest

Of dancing, of red.

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