The Pondering Poet

Head in hand

he is seated, pondering,

as seen from the streets outside.

Narrow,

wide, limping along

yellow light.

Windsown wisdom, sadness, silence

bounds joyfully,

soars through the tavern’s roof,

airs into the city’s breeze;

wafts overseas

in the froth of waves

in mist dissipating…

Vertically, hovering above,

light! Light! Only

light, yellow light, once more glistening

from the window outside

where, head in hand,

the pondering poet is seated silently.