Light drips like yoghurt from the lips of the clouds
and the day drifts away with the fairies.

She
drifts into my thoughts
wearing chiffon I think,
but I blink
and she fades.

a voice reacts to the sound that floats from the mouth of his radio,
'is that the time
or just a reminder that time's marching on?

and then it's gone,
no yoghurt
no time,
all that remains is
the reason to rhyme.