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.

Form: Sonnet

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