I stand on the street corner. I delay crossing.
Watching cars empty pass, accounting damage.
After work, afternoon, evening is falling.
I stand and stare the intensified sun.
Pale blue flows and solid - arid - an impression
Of no deviation. Hand drawn at once random,
Vain and pale brush strokes of pink and of orange.
Now Hark! A lining of gold. Heavenly streets.
No comments:
Post a Comment