Irresistible, on this atmospheric planet, where
there's a blue to carry the heart home and a blue
for virgins and a blue to call
the spider from the drain.
Nobody argues with its
shameless imitation of love, diving
simultaneously into the eye and out of sight: sea,
sky, the absence of convulsions and flags,
our own errata winking at us out of depths or heights.
Knowing that one day we will fall to black
or fade to grey, and blue
has been both places and includes them
as a saxophone includes its drastic
possibilities. It's with us.
We've been gone before.
Copyright © 2004 by Don McKay, Camber, McClelland & Stewart
Meditation on Blue
Don McKay