Dad's Rothko Print
The older I got, the more it made sense.
When I was a child
(like, real innocent no-nothing kid)
I thought it was of the moon.
Black sky, starless
encloaks a grey horizon.
There are details there,
if you look close enough.
When I lay dying
in a mental hospital
still high
and certain it was the end,
that painting covered the backs of my eyelids
and I dreamed the dream of the dead.
You see, he put the black over the grey.
