The red, hot sunset of July;
The gray of winter’s dawning;
The scared pure white the fearful high
Crest of the wave is spawning;
The green along the river’s bank
That dares the water’s blueness;
The silver of a blazing star
High in black midnight’s newness;
The polished face of autumn’s gold;
The purple of the aster–
The world’s a warm, effective bold
Painting by the Master.
And man is that two-legged crab
Who criticizes it as “drab” …
by Ray Romine Monday, February 26, 1951
