Colours catch fire over concrete, catch life, catch the laughter
that will not linger for as long as this concrete. Measure moments
not in length but in weight, weight, don’t wait to catch life;
it is cold to be concrete and watch the flames flicker out,
to be caressed but never considered consumable.
We tried to catch the fire that burnt through our time, tried to clamber up
and over the volcanoes tearing terrifying tracks into all that grounded us.
But there were cracks in our concrete, sparks of colour, yes, but specks
of weight too, too much weight, too little breath. Fire steals oxygen,
colour cannot cover over all the chaos, makeup is something we use
to cover a bruise, colours catch fire even when never considered consumable.
Catch the colours before the fire captures all in concrete.
All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
This weeks ideas come from last year’s travels through South Korea.
I took this photo at the Changdeokgung Palace in Seoul.
Lovely and poignant, Damien. It makes me think of autumn, too.
Thanks Merril. It is upon us already