Transmittance

Far away in outer space
sitting on a moon of rock.
Cold grey dust in fingers grasp.
Sandy dry parts hiss and rasp.
The fingers draw four lines of death.
A sterile cry with airless breath.

All around in violet wonder,
nebulae of stars, and heaven's beauty.
Awe and perfection.

Distant voices cry in love.
Warm red beams to penetrate
the giant mirror of the city.

The waves of love in scarlet seen
conceal the pity sent in green.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.