Black and Gold

(It was that period in life one seldom has to be up this early
when youth is just how late we stayed up.
We were like Cesare Pavese's devils in some uncertain hills of Piedmont
But to gather there at eight we were told
And together in a car, east I drove
On the highway the sun simplifies the colours of this scene
to only the difference between charcoal and gold.

This is much more than a reminder of the true function of sunglasses.)

I pointed to you the exuberant colours the 'dying daylight' has painted on the tree
your attention was to the path and how the sun turns everything gold.

I am glad to acknowledge this inaccurate definition of alchemy.
I am generous enough to forgive the sun for impersonating the touch Midas once gave.