Frabjous Times

mirror cinquain poetry scifaiku sequence

The Neogamist

Let’s meet
next Septober
(at latest Octember) —
we’ll stroll the midwinter beaches,
sun-drenched.
Half past
the lost hour of pasteurmony,
you off to your own room
and I in mine,
we’d sniff
a sharp
Earth pungency
twice incorporeal.
Our hearts will skip a dozen beats,
not quite
fully
used to white palladium bands
which this Marchruary
seem so clearly
foreign.
Originally published: 2007/10/11 06:32:58
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