Too much light

Driving up and down the GW Parkway at the rush-hour 5 PM,
chasing a sun who's picking up her lightskirts to leave us,
stopping to capture planes, monuments, trees, and water,
listening to heavy traffic and the calls of many seagulls.

Sitting under the portico at 7:30 PM, waxing moon full risen,
eating beef fried rice and reading about chess madness,
wondering at all the different colored lights I can see
just from my metal rocking chair - orange, yellow, silver.
If I move a few feet outwards, add red/green, and oysterblue.

Scanning through some pictures around 10 PM, frustrated at
my current inability to catch all the color I see in light.
The inside rainbows are faint; dusk's ghostcolors disappear.
Changing an image of moon and dogwood into black and white
makes composition pop out starkly, but the lavender blushes,
the mistyroses, the hazyazures, their absence makes me cry:
I know B&W is art - I can admire it - but it is not mine.

Standing outside at 2 AM, first spring rain blowing through.
The moon is yet visible, but what dominates is the streetlight
glare at the far corner, not yet moderated by weed tree leaves.
Coral light laces through the bamboo whipped by the breeze,
radiates upwards from the shimmering damp slate of the patio.

Skin tone? What is that? In the darkness my skin is deadlinen,
in the moonlight dullpewter, in sun palepeach and redfreckled,
and here and now, faint copper patched with oxidized bronzes.

Nothing captures the light and color coming through my skin.

(Edited to add the appropriate images behind links.)