Friday, October 22, 2010

Message in a bottle

O pretty girl in blue,
who once sauntered along the rue tronchet in a shredded levi's
like a bedtime story bellowed from a midnight's rooftops,

a wayfarer delirious with the impish pleasures of escape
as a family of boucherons behind glass watched transfixed
and a pearly silver prius winked from across the street,

a nikon around your neck, an emerald on the right index,
immeasurable eyes like fingered shapes in sand
adorned by the reckless geometry of a chuckle,

you were a compelling disruption of an anonymous evening,
a wayward verse scribbled of a dreamy indifference,
a brown-eyed habit born of a glorious ignorance.

My words here are but mere elegant gondolas
navigating the vast stormy seas of randomness,
an obdurate memory on a fanciful voyage

so if you ever stumble upon these orphaned thoughts
on a neighbour's screen at an airport
or a ragged page fluttering by a sidewalk,

thank the magnanimity of life's quirky fates for me,
for the artless harmony that is chance, the persistence that is memory
and the ceaseless resonance that is a wide-eyed stranger's smile.

[9th October, 2010
Paris, 5:49 pm]

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