Slipping the Glimpse

My favorite color
                              a full-rail cutback
wind dragging the slope
              the terrace also carved from the rain
& ringing at the center of it
as a shadow would remember some former shape
              on your right a waterfall
                              on your left the glow over China
& one last rusty pipe where you score an 8.5
on a floater that nobody saw

The green silver ripple sound
from the eucalyptus in place of memory
por favor
                              from nerves, with meaning
north of the point
              if you say so
emerald & chrome
                              not to be found in chorus
              or psalm alone
                                                but that it lit fire in the tidepool
& the sunlight bending that way at Venice pier
no different

I still have the photograph
& the scars
                              & the silkscreened cover art
in full color
              even black & white
inked on a wall in the fifth chamber of my heart (the
echo chamber)