Then at night as grim light spoke through open wires;
the trim gate paired the night away with flares
and wild, white rains posing as a squire -
brief as the torrent, swallowed as if air
pushed gently reeling on the throat...
swollen still, like tongues rung out from rhyme;
and as the shiver shook the shameful coat
across the belly swelled with lime

And emeralds shook the branches of the maples
that sang as hollow springs that reached for sun
upon undone confessions still did bring to staple
memories upon the wickedness of one.

Disheveled beggars standing on the pine combs
wept of white lies written in the snow
What shattered sprinkle chased beneath the wrinkled poems
of portraits blackened with the chase of show
sang harmony to abstract moons ablaze
with Dian humming, happy in her hills
across the slow phase
of our fading thrills.

Beyond amazing. Glad you're posting again.

Way beyond amazing!

I'm speechless-...now you know better than that

and that's what perfect looks like

What can one say? Really, this was perfect!