|Rock Creek Park in November
By Reza Nabavian
January 22, 2003
The sweetness of yellow, against the misty air,
witnessing her first steps, a walk in despair.
Lovely curves of black, and how can I forget?
the red indecision, it's orange, or maybe just wet!
It all begins here, along the white solid line,
It all belongs here, the symphony of the sublime.
The hegemony of brown, and the droplets that follow,
They all return here, when the pale sky turns hollow.
I stand and it pours, and hours will soon follow,
Lovely curves of black, and senseless green sorrow.
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