dusk breezes
on oiled water
paint a pointillist facade.
it's ceaselessly shifting world --

like today i'm far away.
i see your face behind each time-blurred pane.

strings vibrate
music leaps out
in a shimmering intrigue.
words unsaid whirl away like dust

from the sidewalk-sweeper's broom.
across a fold in space you touch my hand.

(London, Eng. -- 16/6/73)