Local Color

In this dream: a mystery,
Can colours you not see,
I do not know,
Like a blanket of snow,
Why is this world colour free?

What a crime turning out this maybe,
As an answer to the guilty,
To be found underneath a grey rainbow,
To see flowers growing amidst the cold.

If one object for it’s hue that could be,
A flower blossoming; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet: that would be simply,
In this dream, colouring a glow,
To mark the time pass like time ago,
To solve the colourless history,
To see flowers growing amidst the cold.

Local Color

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