SHADES OF BROWNNESS
I listen to public radio,
a solemn Bach air I can't quite identify,
while I wait in line at the auto bank;
the cars around me a gloomy spectrum
of muddy brown, funereal black, dull gray.
A buff-colored moth, almost invisible,
bumps into the drive-thru's beige brick wall.
Parched weeds line the asphalt in prickly clumps,
like hair sprouting from an old man's ears.
The teller's polished windows reveal dark reflections
of sepia-leafed tree branches in the distance.
Transaction complete, I clutch my receipt and
speed down the shadowy tunnel of the alley.
As I turn onto Oxford Street,
welcome sunlight explodes in every direction.
~Marianne McNamara
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