At the time of colours, no one came here.
The sea-red sand, compacted, stained the floor
Of the yellow valley. Some way above,
Off-duty mountains in teardrops of blue
Topped hedgehog browns in bark of trees. At dusk,
Venus shone, white as glass. No one came here.
Alleged sightings of a stagecoach, a cart,
Or a bicycle, easily disproved,
Confirm this truth, with proof that does not lie.
Just as well, because, if someone did come,
What would they see? Nothing. Only colours.