chagall backdrop

In February
at Mardi Gras
we ride top-down
we sport our ware
we reflect in moonlight there
where the earth splits
where we drop
off the horizon

At the water’s edge
I’ll confess
I’ll tell her
I’m a snowfall
in Harlem
in streetlamp
to twirl
to the ground

In freefall
I tumble
wildly
like a pollynose
shed from trees
lit in long slants
of sun ray
cold and oblique
to the ground

Enough to tease
but surely not
enough to grow
one gets impatient
to wait for spring
to roll through
time on a promise
wishful to think
more than passion

Some nights
in definite
bold relief
stark engravings
where the lean sight
of you cascades
over me
in ribbons
of perfumed hair

Too fleet
so many things
come and go
too quickly
so much time
stirs yet so
little ado

© Chagall 2013