Poetry

Water from you

will quickly fill

my deserted soul,

which withers, until

it meets with my eyes

and, reaching their rim,

gives ocular proof

of a tropic within.

”Patrick Lee Miller

Optics

Black is no color

and all of them.

White is all colors

and none of them.

So it’s simply

a matter of reflection

and absorption, prism

and paper, prison

and sentence.

”Gilbert Allen