Tonight's Poet Corner: I See More Color With My Left Eye
I See More Color With My Left Eye by Belinda Roddie There's a fragility , in the sense of whisking visual exploration; a London Underground railway exploring all the walls like canvasses streaked with the art of commercial gain. But something about the hues to the left of my periphery catches me off guard, not in the brightness of it, but in the shade. A sparkle to the amber sheen of a glass window - crisp, golden ale stains from a more than yellow sun. A hot pocketed spiral of blues within my lined paper route, the words crooked ebony on the bed of dissertation. Disillusioned, longing, turmoiled agate jewel crystallizes outside the schoolyard, turning pale gray when I look dead on instead of glancing to the side. I see all things beautifully, but the left brings an uncertain glow to the dew of bay area day. The fog swirls just right beneath my defending cornea. The spots, dancing, webs of retinal spiders spinning sky into threads along screens, bouncing o