As when tin comes
that wander through
a shrubs version
of a horizon.
A floral decanter and
a shrubs last look
I walk through the last of these lights
And thought of them as peepholes
seen through.
I said to myself the softness as
blowing of nobler extol or
when some melodeon play
would fill a room and float away?
This room as lonely as a cloud
as to how this tin flowed.
And as time was leisurely prospect
inward lay as tinsel
promote the means compunctual
I would shy of this emptying
would be in tin balloons.
What I do not this unfolding
that when tin comes
the prolonged inebriate conjoin.
The abstract to pronounce tin
is starlight joined.