13th floor elevator

…she’s there – in some form,


up on the high deck of a bus I never saw

til now the Redness how intense the flavour


of it is,


gardens! weave

between the jasmine and the flower;


shade, white shadow waive wave

air-thin nothingness, the spider


strings of Shostakovich –


climb my walls!

course the cracks of heavenly ceilings,


I’m in!                                   too  s-low …


to get the door.