there

s

a

blossom

blooming

so

ry

far

away

which

as

its

petals

open

will

glow

as

bright

as

day

as

though

a

morning

breaking

un

,

unwoken,

grey

the

clouds

waking

and

broken,

sifting

ray

by

ray

like

—

linguine

among

penne

or

fresh

fru

in

the

grove

a

cardboard-linen

bed

with

sun

a

silken

throw

the

moon

nt

the

streetlights

to

distant

dreams

of

mine

of

cities

still

to

see

and

ladders

yet

to

climb

the

warming

new

dawn

light

no

longer

quite

so

shy

the

soft-lit

quick-wit

flower

i

might

see

again

some