Evening Metaphor
Borrow those silken happy hours
I want to count the time layers,
Smell the minutes and tiny seconds
Floating like petals in dense tequila,
Under the blue death light, the images
Quivering in a halo fire,
And late evening metaphors come in torrents
With curved smile and wild laughter.
Like a pattern never hides in brewing stir
The distant stars drawing circles and squares,
Dreams and desires find careful steps
Under the shades of iconic clouds,
While the crowd with their rosy glimpses
Dispel the gloom of spreading emptiness.