i'm thirsting for jacquards and fine stemmed glassware
arias and plain flat violet skies that seem to curve to the clouds
firmness that releases soft edged conversations relinquished doubts
and stubborn stroked outlines of earlier times... peaches in kraft bags
ripened to the sweetness that "ahhs" the tongue and smiles that
linger and trickle down to bebop rhythms and Sarah's songs
tricky stuff said and done with twisting turning resolute
convictions and strained certainties that spoke to truth and
utter passions that seemed to spiral like so many dervishes in tophat
wonderment... look at the fallen trees and lost warriors that happened past histories... ultimate choices when futile jestures seemed
like the oligarch's pronouncements... merriment comes to tamper with
memories and sadness falls into chutes flowing to wide streams
where friends wade knee high over soft slipping stones all placed and counted matched like Orion's special quarter of the universe... stay quietly among the ferns and frogs and pace yourself to the changing monotony or feast upon the first light tickling your eyes tomorrow morning.