If I could choose the perfect way
To spend a life
It would be this
A witness to
The rise and fall of sun
To paint with word or brush
Or camera lens
Each one
As simple snowflake never has a twin
I’d capture every wave
Of violet tide
And pool of grapefruit pink
And pen and ink
The gulf of vermillion
And spectacles
Of prism sky
I would behold
Embellished with a storyline in gold
And other colors without name
And each nuance of early light
And evening flame
Would be a chapter in my book
And none would read the same
And I would be official raconteur
And herald
Lest one amazing masterpiece
Slip by
Or subtlety forgot
If I could choose the perfect life
To be my lot




Sara Mathews     September 2015