Life Happens in Episodes

Once in a while, you meet someone

who gradually walks,

on the thresholds of your imagination.


Flashing through your mind,

on those remote hours

as you pause from work,

or stare out through your window

as the day sets into the glimmering sky.


They are like wine

and the colour brown,

unavoidable blend

of dusk and passion

you nurture,

on your veins.


Make them your pigeons

Let them roost and leave

than die on your balcony

Over fed and senile.



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