The Yolk

Can a painter ever really capture the color of a yolk?

No, this is not a joke!

I'm completely serious.

Not trying to be mysterious.

A yolk is the color of the sun

Just rising on the horizon.

Neither orange, nor yellow.

Maybe it was rendered by Van Gogh.

He sure liked his golds.

Rembrandt, Cezanne, Picasso?

No, I really don't think so.

The color of the yolk is a special hue.

Most amazing pigment I ever knew.

It looks so beautiful on the plate.

In its soft, yet firm, state.

It's a real revelation

If you've got the time for contemplation.

Guess I got too much time on my hands.

But from where I sit, the yolk is pretty grand.

Is it the egg or the chicken

That's got me so stricken?

The yolk is birth and also death.

There was a tiny creature that never had breath.

A beginning and an end in a delicate prison.

There is such beauty in this vision.

Do I sound like an imbecile?

Delicate, cracked and fragile.

Just like the shell on which my mind dwells.

Do you grasp my confusion?

Or am I just losing it?

To find the yolk so moving.