sepia is the new white;
patches of the summer garden
rehearsing their going-under,
sachets of tea ambering
in mason jars on the sill—
Patience sits and steeps,
embryo in an overlay of oil:
thick sludge of brine marbling
its ivory face, perfecting
the beautiful, golden heart
that was always there.
In response to Via Negativa: Hope and Doubt.