The Cardinal, by Henry Carlile
.
Not to conform to any other color
is the secret of being colorful.
.
He shocks us when he flies
like a red verb over the snow.
.
He sifts through the blue evenings
to his roost.
.
He is turning purple.
Soon he’ll be black.
.
In the bar’s dark I think of him.
There are no cardinals here.
.
Only a woman in a red dress.
.
“The Cardinal” from Running Lights by Henry Carlile
I’ve been Spotted by Spring Noel (Flickr)
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