The poem today gives you a fresh look at white. I took this photo today. As we were driving the whiteness of the building glowed way down the road.
White on White
Rug dropped sugar,
fresh, wet iris on marble dresser,
the chopping of combers under cold sun,
rain-faded boards of proud, paint-
poor churches, great
inside clouds hidden inside sky. Bring
two together and we see the old lot
of language to ledger tint
from tone, hint from
whisper (not quite
sauterne, closer to crisper champagne);
to cite complement, how as a snail stains
a cement path, the pearled trace
kindles in light.