September
Streets lit with amber,
deciduous musk,
rustling of silhouettes.
In Stanley Park:
wet lumber
festooned with spiders’ webs.
September: sea-mists,
sunset a gust of amethyst,
the zinc-taste of oysters. Wistfulness
in the departure of freighters,
in their dolorous timbre.
Beautiful stuff. We’re having a very different September over here, but I like the sound of yours better.
Posted on 11-Sep-07 at 3:08 am | Permalink