haikugraphy

7.2.10

Whiter shade of pale.

Gentleman's silence, beneath

A coy bud blossomed.

No other wings but

these. Tireless suns, lighting

the road leading home.

If my vibrancy

Can only be braced for one

look, let it be yours.

The songs are so free:

Ungoverned, reality

takes wings in verses.

Ate a persimmon,

while reading Auden. What rhymes,

could this mime, summon?

Waiting, forever

For that last light, to become

A permanent hue.

Glowing, like the end

of a gentleman's cigarette,

Almost in my reach.