Light filters through a crystal glass of red
Wine smoky and pure merlot
shines a color down to your very soul.
Heart red sounds a pure note
like a Flugel horn from a deep canyon
quiet, then suddenly full of chesty call.
In these passing storms of love,
one minute drenched, the next thundering dry,
A note echoes—in white porticoes
whose columns frame winsome gestures
of tender touch enfolding a young face
in time’s winnowing hand-held by some design.
In these corridors, where destiny walks naked
for all to see, hang ornate tapestries of time
scriven on by human multitudes unguided
save for some design because destiny dances
to a far off horn, blushing the color of dawn’s
light through a crystal glass of red.
-by Monte Rosen
Monte Rosen is the assistant facilities manager at the Center for the Arts. His poetry has been published in Birdcage Review, Dakota Home Journal, and other publications. He lives in Victor, Idaho.
