Painting 1810
The promise of more than passing
Gum-tips scribble long librettos
on a glassed-in page,
and the wind's wild tongue,
slowed by the painter's brush,
is almost audible, words that,
caught by the moon's lean,
hold their fleeting strength
against irrelevance. All hope strains
to shape the wind, reaches
for the moon's edge,
to hear the aria
of its own endurance.