rainbows and roses and lobsters

From my window sill looking out over the darkened limbs swaying in the distance.
Still winter out and wanting to touch the rose bush with bare hands
prickles nearby-wanting to be pricked by the sharp shard of blade of growth
carefully avoiding the barbs in memory--on occassion getting stung by one. an ouch exclaimed.


looking out over the edge of the lobster boat and seeing into the brine of the ocean-a depth that is fathomed
rope pulling upward with water glistening off it
straining forward and upward as the winch carries forth a load of tasty morsels-slowly restrained and rested by the rope and mesh of the trap.
A grab of the hand of the lobsterman and the snap of the rubber bands. Giving the opaque crustaceans a little more freedom to roam around-yet not pinch anyone. Transferred to white and green tanks for the summer visitor-
unknown as to where and when they are headed.

looking heavenward for the rainbow to appear in the sky
after a hot summer rain and the wind rushing by my face.

All Scarlet in color and brilliant in their many ways.