Life is lived in moments:
a bubble in green jelly,
the yellow honey of the sun,
sky as blue as your t-shirt,
as naked as your toes.
A boat nodding like the mad
and moonlight as bright as day,
the afterglow of saints.
Time distilled in fragments,
rolls the stone away.
A scent, a sight of melancholy
sets shivers through the night.
Morning in quiet glory
a birdsong to the ground
that lies in its beaded blanket.
To the mind is a
butterfly caught in amber
like the sun coming
and dipping tree tops in gold.
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