color

Have been staring at the gray heavy soft fluffing cold sky in bird counts in Stone Valley and the Upper Penns Watershed. Have been looking at the line where ridge and sky meet. shorebird loving forest.,

a sailor looking at the line
straight brush mountain
waves and wind keep coming in-verted sea

have you ever felt a color?
felt a color so deeply , that you miss it
it pulls you into a sea of it
grabs you by the scruff of the jacket
and washboards you under and underup
a body, a dream of sky lying on the Brushedline

  captain eyes in the duldrums
circuitous sphere inside a parabula
 laying oneself bey-on the line
ridging and cresting complimentary a dream of the sky