~
She smiles only in pictures
Her hair is growing long
With eyes closed
Au coucher du soleil
Her voice is dulcet
Her laugh is nexus
"Take me with you," she says.
"We'll make kites, we'll steal land."
The gentle arrival of rain
In the blue hour of
The portrait gallery
Makes her qualified to dream
About a serenade of water
And the blueberry boat
~