Gray day 
upon day 
before snow, 
old tintype 
sepia tones 
muted so 
that color’s 
an incident, 
a jewel 
that glows. 

Sunset caught
roseate in 
each web 
of branches;
bittersweet 
wearing motley 
beside the 
back roads. 

The signal’s 
an exotic,
daubed parrot
or harlot—
Emerald. Burnt 
gold. Then 
throat-caught
scarlet.