I sample tips of douglass fir,
taste the subtle variation  –
sweeter, sharper, more of lemon
or of resin – I taste, I taste,
but do not choose

It is like colors  – I taste,
in my mind, a bright dark crimson,
then imagine taking it a shade towards peach,
I see the sheen the two set up,
interleaved, like early spring’s red maples,
I draw a line of deep slate indigo
to set the red off boldly, to vibrate
along the border

But, also, I can love the summer
of crimson into amber,
the warm delicious tones stirred up
through the transition
And green  – I can’t even begin
to speak of green’s delights –
the luminescence of back-lit leaves,
the soothing shading of the summer firs

I’ll taste, I’ll taste,
but no, I will not choose –
each color needs all of the others,
and I need color in my sight and mind
to paint the glory of each light-blessed day.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 17, 2021