Autumn in ZP

The only leaf I plucked, it faded out,
The vestige of the past is left instead,
The vortex gulf became an ether cloud
That pours with darkness as the sun has set
   And I acquire the depth of distant skies
   That fell into the chasm where color dies.
   ________________

The dusthole city souls, they all were dreaming
Of time they'll take a look to stellar sky,
I set the door ajar to find the gleaming
Of kodaked rapture caught in cyan eye.
   I stand before this gate as evening burns
   - I reached the land in which the loss returns.

The dawn of blue has lit a careless wonder
That peered among the rays of inner beam
When started up the state I'm living under
And overflew the day with radiant stream,
   Conservatory glitter saved the rhymes
   Of childish laugh you gave me for all times

And I recall the wild initiation
Inside the whirlpool of the gemmy night
That spat the sparks in crackling indignation
Which filled the city with electric light,
   Transparent moon came lying on the branch
   As all this swirling beauty you did change.

Beside the misty lake we sat awaiting
For the appearance chance, for turning back,
And when it came, forgotten, black and fading
We lied and smelled the grass in thunder sack,
   We knew the way, we tried to outfluff
   The abyss bottomless, oblivion chasm, the love.

We tried to catch the only wind to weather
The views of bolted doors and windows barred
And thousands of stairs we kept together
In vertical illusion of the art,
   But when it rose it brought the autumn gray
   That hid our nature shine in gloomy spray.

The sparkling whirl dissolves in fairy power
Of hazy morning spreading overhead,
The fog in which we sailed did hide a flower
That all the grayish world was laughing at
   And as the frost had fixed the wish to play
   The crystalline delirium filled the day.
   ________________

Dead-drunk I sing beside the homely brow,
The land of rustling leaves, it’s all destroyed
And strings are burning off my fingers now
And sadness spreads its wings in silent void,
   It withers like the chance for me to be.
   The scent of dying. Autumn in ZP.

1997 Apr 25