Melancholy morning,
pensive,
bright sun, still shadows,
looking out my window
...
Intoxicated by wine breathing....
His calloused fingers, fretted snowflakes,
that floated in that hot, muggy, evening.
...
Sitting in his lap, leaning, listening, watchful...
Sunlight captured in shadows
Birds swinging on branch trapezes
...
“Have you done this before? ”
Turning her face,
blurring, learning
...
A Kind Of Morning....
Melancholy morning,
pensive,
bright sun, still shadows,
looking out my window
at the same shade
of green, seen
between the
fence slats,
uncaged
where the dew
drops evenly.