When the paintbrush of the day
is tucked away
and the sunset dipped
in the forest of the night
the moon wanes and waxes
down the hills of stars  
atop that shady wrap.

Who peeps in
where the sleeping beauty wakes
is any one guess
nor it's a amateur's business.

Far from the half lit astral canopy
any bucket lowered  
deep down on the ground
into a barrowed well of colours
comes up with a Joseph of Cannon
the firesome story goes on.
The same fire burner
is also the same fire extinguisher
Alexander the Great intrigued life water
cool serene cup of Ab-e Hayat elixir!

He is dead, and
He used to come and knock at my door
With his shoes undone
His face lit up with a van Gogh grin.
Young artist in the world
Contracting his vision from the noisy space
Of busy, night-lit, city streets,
But he is dead, and
These streets I walk are of a meaner face
Now he is gone.

Gone beneath the brown and barrowed earth
Heaped over him,
Gone beneath the life I've piled
On top of passing life to stop
His sometimes violent memory,
The vivid recollection of moments that
Won't come again,
That haunt the chapels of an aging mind
Which can't escape or span,
Which cannot bridge the water's deep
Disturbing flow.

Yes, you are gone my friend
The choreography of life is lost
Though life rolls on,
No eyes with which to see the world
No voice to fill the world with song,
The sunbeam burst through the sudden shower
Which lights along this city street,
Moves nothing now, moves inland,
Far away from this
Unconscious world.

Excuse me,
Would it trouble you terribly so
If I barrowed this seat
This empty seat
And,
If I may impose can I steal a minute, or three?

And I simply must ask the name by which you have chosen.
For it will be known
That on this crisp morning of little significance by time
Or season,
I was given the name of an angel.

Ahah!
Yes!
Infect me with your smile
The whimsical one I spied from across this very room.

Oh but please, don’t hide your smile so lovely,
For I crave it already
And besides,
Your eyes simply cannot lie!

But wait!
You twirl your hair?
Do I make you nervous?
Surely it’s the contrary,
I swear!

You see my heart is a flutter and my stomach is churning
My mind is racing
And I am just hoping
Hoping you won’t notice

My palms are sweaty
I am speaking far too quickly,
Or that my foot is subconsciously tip-tap tapping away

But despite my anxiety threatening to steal my lips I must press on

Where were you born?
What city or town, did you or do you call home?
And I hope I’m not intruding
But do you come from a small or large family?

You ask my name and return every question in kind but I assure you my answers are rather unimportant,
And besides our time is short
And my heart is burning
I fear I cannot wait a second or minute longer

So I ask before I go
May I share another conversation over breakfast or dinner?
For it really doesn’t matter

And if you answer “no”
Just know that I will be fine
For I feared I hardly had a chance.

Scratch that
My heart will break and cry
But it comes as no surprise.

But with your fair grace I have my answer
And with elation and dread I chance to see you again.