The fog walks through the pathways
Covers the object in a vignette
Creating soft lines from the once hard.
The lines of people’s faces became softer – fleshier –
The clock seems to move
In steady motionless inches.
Cherry blossoms wake up the red brick.
Visionary colours. Hard to describe.
The live jazz
Through the porous building walls
Where we stand and chat.
I have a continual conversation with myself.