Page 52 - Contrast2007

Blue

Martin Camper

If I were the blue
flowing out of your ink pen
onto your paper,
I would be your words,
your thoughts around me,
I would get all over
your hands and pants.

If I were the blackberry juice
. sitting in the bottom of your bowl,
you would have picked me from a bush,
pulling apart the branches,
seeded me,
baked me with spices and milk
and topped me with cream -
I would coat your tongue,
get stuck in the back of your mouth,
and show on your teeth.

If I were above stretched to cover even the mountains,
you would miss me when dark clouds come
and cover my face,
and under me you would do everything.

If I were the lapping
of Lake Tahoe in bright moon days of June,
you would come to meet me,
stick your toe in me,
and I would find my way around all of you
and keep you up with the boats,
your legs cutting through my waves.

If I were the hottest bit
of the fire sizzling and popping in your hearth,
I would be slowly eating,
slowly eating,
slowly eating
away at the logs, heating
you and your other,
both of you mesmerized by the colors of the taller flames _
orange, red and yellow.

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