the sound of a rainbow

in a golden glade of soprano notes

there's a tree the color of minor key

and with every note, it's crimson grows

with alizarin crescendos.

though bleeding ears may be pummeled and ache

drowned by a shower of endless high notes

and basses so low that they seem to blaspheme.

my eyes will never tire

of watching the seasons change

like a tall dark redbud

blossoming into a dark red song.