Colors

 (For D.
 M.
 C.
) 

The little man with the vague beard and guise 
Pulled at the wicket.
 "Come inside!" he said, 
"I'll show you all we've got now -- it was size 
You wanted? -- oh, dry colors! Well" -- he led 
To a dim alley lined with musty bins, 
And pulled one fiercely.
 Violent and bold 
A sudden tempest of mad, shrieking sins 
Scarlet screamed out above the battered gold 
Of tins and picture-frames.
 I held my breath.
 
He tugged another hard -- and sapphire skies 
Spread in vast quietude, serene as death, 
O'er waves like crackled turquoise -- and my eyes 
Burnt with the blinding brilliance of calm sea! 
"We're selling that lot there out cheap!" said he.

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