angst cycle (iii) — [Ư] (v)

there’s a beautiful pattern out there
a complex series of shades of grey
a visual version of a symphony

and in the middle
i kid you not
it has the head
it has the body
it has the tail
it has the wings
the infamous
flying pig

soon gone
now the wings
are a cloak
spread over a patch of water
enough to give me visions
of an elizabethan gentleman
at his hopeful best

i am thinking in clichés today
but when i look for more
i see the beautiful brightness
of one edge of cloud
a shore around a mere
in sunlight