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