POEM - Choice

Here
Silence and sun washes everything amber -
Blankets really -
Soft fog aims to hide
What light spray-paints the color of one aching heart.
With broad strokes,
Sinewy shadows, drawn as objects bleeding black.

Here
everything holds a sturdy desire to rest.
Bent as I am toward silence
That washes over black road, uphill,
Light in the face of large open face houses.

On
But on I go passing through
a painting, in some sort of reverie.
Called, I respond.