the crass

beneath the wistful window
comes a darling little gem
to sparkle like none other
to sword fight in a song

an elbow wakes the edge
earlier than expected
as the water turns down
main mist breathes inward

a softness unmanned
i lost something in the wind
more like winter
has come
has gone

recharging can wait
we must press on
to pin the obvious
on one who escapes
only for the moment