in the streets of my town which is made of stone.
soft and velvet as the inside of my cat's ear.
They tell me: these are blue.
is blue and so is Mary the mother of God of the miracles.
also the last house, and the Mother of God.
straight-lined, sharp-angled. And this is yellow.
Yellow is the shape of bricks.
Birds clap from the tower where the bell is hung.
They sound like wet cloths on a line in a gust.
chatters and fratches. Sparrow laundry.
Pale grey is a roughness on my fingertips.
Green whispers and smells of rain.