Just for fun, since I'm re-reading one of my favorite books, excerpts from Jack Gilbert's poetry:
"Isaiah said each man walks in his own fire
for his sins. Love allows us to walk
in the sweet music of our particular heart."
--
"...purple is black blooming"
"gray...a thousand colors from white to silver"
--
"Maybe, he thinks, it is like the Noh: whenever
the script says dances, whatever the actor does next
is a dance. If he stands still, he is dancing."