Colours

Prose Poem

Photo by on

In the shapeless murk, a slender tree, brightly illuminated by a streetlight. Some of its leaves still have the green lushness of summer, but most are glowing red, like sky lanterns against the starless dark. A skinny child is playing on the rusty ground, his face awash in waves of grey and tangerine. There is a certain psychedelic beauty to this picture, with the colours way too bright, too saturated, almost to the point of looking unnatural. Like an old polaroid shot.