Salt & Amber

A pint of colour, please


An away look in your sky


A fled kite’s isoscelean wound, diminishing 


To a hard black vee 


Storm cloud frown


Storm cloud glee


A string with bows, penanting


Small change, wet


On stain-blacked wood


Dull as eyes


As if it harboured a new dis-ease


Cigarette burns, sidelong glances


Wan as chartreuse evening


A worthless treasure found


Behind a temple’s shouldered offerings


In the glimpse, in the glass


Amber, salt, returning