Tuesday, May 15, 2007


Rooms that turned like pages
In a book of flashing colours,
Odd and comforting messages
Delivered by kindly walls,

A kitten in a box, so pretty,
And stone frog cobbles smiling
Somewhere in a crystal city,
A street full of moons

And she was dancing there,
I remember that clearly,
Laughing in the spinning air,
Eyes daring me to follow,

And so I did what I had to do,
Traded hours and cooked the coffee
For one warm moment in wonder,
Faded now. And so I’m late. Sorry.

B.T. Murtagh

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