Dalyan

Solar Caustic

What these chrome yellows tell, fall waters see:

the end of days, their quickening;

an acid etch of sickened pigments,

signals of this scene’s undoing.

And in the river is a mirrored hint:

What follows will be consummate.

Here is a glimpse of the penultimate:

corrosive colours scorched by sun,

part-quenched by mute metallic shades,

and yet still burning, momentarily.

The poisons in their grey remains

are taints of arsenic, antimony.

Tomorrow will awake the fey

who will personify this perfectly;

leaf smoke the metaphor for this.

The black swan, giving his soliloquy,

inaudible to anyone,

knows well what his condition is.