On Rothco

It’s the crack
in the curtain
that tells us
it’s day
a strip of light
that casts its ray
like an interstellar fisherman
trying to catch a stray star
whose sound
is one glass ringing.
Pulsating bands of black
and blue pull us away
from the light of casual day
draw us in
make us see how dark
another kind of light can be
how layers of colour
reveal the geology of feeling
make us sensors
in a radiating field.

Carol DeVaughn