in the end gold was right
and no breeze, no waves
on a flat sea, steady beat
on medium heat
and the right day was
yesterday
and also today
today for nothing left to linger
the curl of a little finger
on the stem, chrysanthemums,
a little white wine, your place and mine
when the bright gold means
you’re not too old
just bold enough
and perfect like i always promised
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3 comments:
i am paying my debt of servitude.
i hope you feel better ))):
when you explain, i appreciate your constant brilliance even more.
this is epically clever.
now i want you to explain (though i understand the blue topaz part). it is beautiful, by the way.
i am constantly in a state of awe when i read your poetry.
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