cycle

A monk, walking across a splash of sunlight acquires a halo and lo, the multitiudes of Buddhas nod in approval.

military camouflage
rusty neglect
a veil stretched over a dusty land

and white faces watch brown
warm to sepia
in secret places
mulberry along the creases yes forlorn

brown

ripens to

maroon

and soon they say
a new kind of color not in your space
but creeping coming on
tingling

Burma

a trove of burnished patterns
happy to be discovered
bubbles up before their eyes

a monk
walking across
a splash of sunlight
acquires a halo
and lo
the multitudes of Buddhas
nod in approval

canopies of bamboo
tarps of many colors
multi-striped umbrellas
offer shady relief
from a noon rich in humidity

and women underneath
decorated with paisley
are obedient to their day

they squat and slice sardines
in front of a wall of

aqua

while fingers of mildew crawl
under a white brushstroke

they weigh wares
and trade news with customers

and stare

at pale sweating strangers
with bony knees
that long khaki shorts don’t spare
and rain proof hats
bought at high end stores
selling stock worn outdoors
who see an altogether unexpected
breathing and beating
beneath grimy streets

where bus windows frame
tired faces already on the trail

to sleep
dreams gallop
like unbroken horses
out of a corral

taking on a life of their own
formed by a timid swelling hope

in these dreams color bursts
into the most intense poppy

red

whispers in sleepy ears
dictate the stirring of hearts
asking why walk in dirty footprints
when they just tramp on possibilities

whispers hisses then
a strangled cry
and why
changes to no
a protest growing
lifting the brown and underneath
all the burnished patterns speak
shouting we are not afraid

yet brown can fall over the land
as easily as night

and so suddenly without stealth
the powers lower the veil
covering people of the country
and the country itself