There are morning birds singing their
fragmentary tunes in honey-sweet
tones outside my window. The dim
blue light stumbles in, like an old blind man,
...
The weekend wakes without a yawn
as someone, somewhere, mows a lawn.
The spaniel in the yard next door
has barked at nothing since the dawn.
...
It's quiet now.
The candle's out and
every silver lining has a cloud.
The flower's been plucked and
...
I stare at the stars, and the bee-like
clockwork of the ever-busy city,
and they gaze back in placid hostility,
telling me two things - telling
...
Floating in a silver sea;
The sparkling waves shift silently
Beneath the gaze of shining stars
And silken clouds that clad the moon.
...
Strolling over sensual sands
In melancholy Moonlight's hands,
And swooning under inky skies.
The salty scent of sighing waves,
...
Evening is ending its sorrowful song;
The light retreats, as if in the wrong
And the sick orange sunset sinks into night.
The darkness as warm as a feverish brow
...