It's Still Life

A Puzzle in Scarlet

He inherited his mother’s God.
And her unfortunate differences,
like her ability to unnerve the air.
He’d stand there in the rain
sweating symmetry, and occasionally
being mistaken for a puzzle in scarlet.
Or a posturing deck of cards.
He sang harmonic chords,
hummed Greek for protection,
spoke to birds and carp and sheep,
and then he fell into a descent
only to return again.
As a mooncalf, some said.
But profoundly sane this time.

written for Miz Quickly’s prompt: Caliban. Images by Tsukioka Yoshitoshi and Franz Marc