If I hid inside the colour blue
a skyclad, windowless horizon
all my senses tuned
to this eruption
volcanic lava
from my womb
what happens to blue when red enters?
and then there is green
warm grass,
tropical sea,
erect treetops
and purple
whole lavender fields in bloom
In our pasture, three horses lie
in a triangle, equidistant, their hooves tucked
under their bellies, ears up, jaws quiet
sun brightens and I forget the molten sting
erosion has its moments