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Like mist or a daydream real |
|
made of substance |
|
can you feel it? |
|
buildings brown (of in a gray downtown) |
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in the twilight |
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can you see it? |
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photographs |
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typographs |
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in the papers did you read it? |
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stop and blink |
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as I pause to think |
|
I wonder does it matter much at all? |
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Denmark came and a Denmark marked my soul |
|
Songs for a real crowd in a cafe |
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full of listeners |
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know your tongue |
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and they know your man |
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in the crowd now did you see her? |
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airplanes |
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window panes |
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and a misting of the viewpoint |
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stop and blink |
|
as I stop to think |
|
I wonder would I miss her much at all |
|
Denmark came and a Denmark marked my soul |
|
Muse for damp heart |
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in a country living softly |
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countless walks on a timeless way |
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in a body filled with coffee |
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poetry |
|
irony |
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of the moment |
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can you feel it? |
|
stop and blink |
|
as I stop to think, |
|
I wonder will I miss this much at all? |
