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SOARING
Bleak afternoon,
Weary heart and mind,
Cosmic blankness stares at world.
Sullen looks,
And dismal laughter,
Remind me of an old film.
Bergman-like,
In a gas-lit street,
Your presence still pervades.
Liz Browning,
And her fine love poems,
Lend life to a bygone theme.
Future stares,
Like a bright rainbow,
As you wave at me to soar.
Nothing now,
Seems important than,
You and me in sky’s caress.
