Of things undescribable!
The scent of summer night.
Rabbit pate made with white Vouvray wine
The flutes in the Andes.
Tree-tops in purple light.
The street was emptying at dusk
Like a fading memory with one golden moment.
The last remaining member of the crowd
Was walking away in a hurry
With hands raised
As if trying to feel the cunning threads
By which he, too, is attached.
I sat leaning against a mailbox
Where years earlier I dropped a love letter.
It was still there whispering to me,
And then it wasn’t.
A silent, sunlit corner, empty
But for a black cat about to cross.
The grave and abstracted air
Of a life still to happen.