Flowing in the glow of coastal lights
Shining from wan houses
Is a thought,

Flickering and incomplete, whipping through my mind
Like locks of hair in the wind, flailing
Past my blinking eye-lids.

Fleeting like a whistled tune composed unconsciously before
Morning tea, a bleary transient distraction,
So sweet and simple. And then forgotten.

Flowing in the glow of passing headlights
Is a thought and nothing more,
But lingering…

Floating on the surface
It is love.