Color Theory
In cords of white heat   birds fold,
            wither to water like bits of stray  paper.
            A gesture worn thin    as a sequence of poses,
the tide’s  slow pull, tracks of waves  in the lake—
                        I sprinkle bread from the pier
                        & watch the gulls dive; their mouths hinging open
                     pops of pink against blue lake / white sky.  Color theory
broken down to the damp loaf
I scatter between fists;
treasure of gray gulls,  their star-shaped mouths

the beloved, beveled water: kissed & kissed.
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