my eyes meet the dark sun-hiding still pin-drop stars decide which to choose what tip to shine I wiggle my naked toes look for the moon absent now in a blanket sky the cat in her cat ways kneads while she waits birds- their morning shouts pierce the earth dew still sticking to my night

are you there what have you been up to heard you have wedded again- thrice married to the same black-laced gals all chocolate-haired ginger-mouthed you are old now- head - a cap of salt probably stay home more tending to bronchitis and such stoop on your back hugging your lungs tight until only squealing sounds are heard you have a shopper now to buy your morning oats you can have a lay-in on Saturday mornings or read The Guardian from front to back instead of rushing to 'Marks and Sparks' for their chilled bachelor meals you have an in-house cook does she cook fish do you still eat Stollen have you offered it to your many raven-haired wives at Christmas and New Years Day stale crumbs now was it tasty at its peak when it was moist with the plump of young raisins milk from the breasts of almonds- fragrant with scent of cardamom freshness of new love I remember the lonely loaf sitting in your sad ice box- my stomach churning from hunger from need I still think about your fridge how it echoed of stinginess empty barrels in your eyes- cold and grey. The tale of the undrunk bottle of champagne you had in your solitude after the midnight hour struck has she heard your cries in the night

spring curves to summer to painted toe-nails water hoses that hover over beds of cultivated lettuce I dream of calming winds breezing in straightening my wrinkled mood bleaching grey thoughts I'll place flowering pots high. Fiery reds wild chicory along veranda posts to announce the time has come for fluttering hummingbirds parading their new colours trumpets will blow in robin's-egg skies morning starlings- barefooted legs- will prance with tiger-lilies powder-puffed holly-hocks word innocent golden, sun-filled, honeyed lacking in crime and control will stay for a while it is when the tall elm-multifoliate- is honoured each leaf- baptized in summer showers air- sweet, cloudless, full of wonder when books are savoured on green-striped swings each sway - a turned page and when harp strings snap like a cable on a catamaran window shutters tremble inlets sour I will think of the towering poplar He who assigns it He who guards my garden keeps the hinges free from rust I will think of the brief cherry blossoming- how they fill me from outside my kitchen door- sun-floods caressing my shoulders

so much has been written about blue dresses worn at the whitest of balls proms their cornflower threads calm skies tears all familiar themes do tears bleed blue in sorrow their indigo scents inhaled while bulging droplets cascade to stagnant pools staining the dress midnight