COLORS OF MATUG

sun mauve magenta spiral

with a cool fondue whip of mandarin

rising on that blue splashed with rose

beast that swallows the ones wanting to arrive

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there's passion building in the clouds

a graying dusty whisper

a question mark almost a face

can be seen looking down

on one small vessal spilt like milk

on a rich violet tapioca beach

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its contents gone only the gaping maw

of its deck sneering down to the still earth

it could be a mouth or a sad grin

as if something was swallowed up whole

the dove waits, waits waits

and the dove

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oh the dove the dove the dove the dove

it is singing a lullaby of white with a speck of blue

it is looking at the emptiness and the silence

and the cold tapioca sand

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if you listen now you can hear the song

of a million travellers gone home

if you see the silence

you can feel the echo of the tide

going out