Five Tee-Shirts

Today I bought five tee-shirts

in five colors for ten dollars:

forest green, and navy blue,

and charcoal gray – dark brown

and purple, too – projected stabs –

preemptive strikes – imagining

that, wearing them, I might be

able to pretend I was invisibly

in German fairy tales at night:

fading into shades of shadows

in the woods: mysteries sustained:

antidotes to having entertained

too long the fallacy of thinking

what you see is what you get –

taking surfaces too blatantly –

as if the sunlight could tell all.

(Though calendars say I’m

in early Spring, my Soul is always

in late fall.) And so, for five days

running, starting now, I will assume

the tints and hues that correspond

to views that burrow, dig and plow.

You'll see me first in forest green.

That is if, in the camouflage

of wearing it, I can be seen.

.