quick scratches, an afterthought

"If I said- remembering in summer,
The cardinal's sudden smudge of red
In the bare gray winter woods-

If I said, red ribbon on the cocked straw hat
Of the girl with pooched-out lips
dangling a wiry lapdog
In the painting by Renoir-

If I said fire, if I said blood welling from a cut-

Or flecks of poppy in the tar-grass scented summer air
On a wind-struck hillside outside Fano-

If I said, her one red earring tugging at her silky lobe,

If she tells fortunes with a deck of fallen leaves
Until it comes out right

Rouged nipple, mouth-

(How could you not love a woman
Who cheats at the Tarot?)

Red, I said. Sudden, red."

-Robert Hass, The Problem of Describing Color

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So I'm challenged with the desire to describe a wonderful evening (celebrating Ben's 21st birthday) with our friends.

If I said, a warm night with shooting stars, glassy curls of water
banking on the pier,

If I said, a salty briny smell- and soft music of fishermens' radios, mingling with the quietude of water lapping wood

A beer garden, pewter racks of some golden, creamy hue
collecting birds; bits of conversation; families with coloring sets,
the tangle of vine to hide some dull glint of wire
hidden music along San Pablo

Laughter- some corner cacophony
(Raw in a way only 20-some college kids could afford)
A ridiculous lavender cake
toasted like potpourri
Affected pomp & circumstance for our new decade

If I said-
At the corner table
Marble and glass
He still makes a wish
blowing out the flame
watching for that shooting star

Then
there was that one
silent night
a whisper to the world
an accent to our lives