Elegy

When logic and intuition stood on edge of time, sugar was dancing on the salt lake. I would not see the torn book between retreat and assault. I was reining in the new moon. In a night raid, five peacocks

thieved by dust of years, still living dead between those tacit yellow words engraved in marble– yet, yen for you tastes opiate honeyed in flowery strings of elegy myrrh scent hanging from a lifeless tree. Come back for me love,

What are we, but dust in the wind, A single grain of sand, upon a beach. The merest speck of light, In the great sun’s dazzling rays. A mere moment, in eternity, A mere second, in a life time. For

Usually the moon is watching But no light greets me now Please remember me for my thoughts Not my animation. Father can you remember happiness? Am I a manifestation of anger? Guilt? Deceipt? Mother do you feel hurt? What is

Like a picture postcard from a city, A city frozen in another time. Living its own distorted reality, On the mantel piece of the sky line. The old building – a marooned ark, Amidst that ocean of newness. Currents that