In The Morning
peaches & cream
& cigarettes
for breakfast
no less
her sense of carelessness
as the morning world
slithers
through blinds
I watch
entranced
her ethereal form
slide into
a youthful dress
outside city windows
time stands still
traffic idles
in jams
& the death smog hangs
like a fading old
photograph
whilst
in santa cruz
someone walks
along those ragged shores
where one wonders
how great the symphony
of rolling seas resound
as a copper august morning
silently draws
its golden shawl
across immeasurable
skies
her blonde hair falls
in cascades
her gaze blue as
the ocean
left in the wake
of her young heart
beat
i am in silence
