7. When sun bursts
© Bruce Goodman 1 March 2015

When sun bursts, semi-bold,
Upon the pantsless night,
Who knows what inconsequential conversations
We could hold sipping Bacardi and
Waiting for winter.

I might read my diary for Boredom’s sake,
Or mope my secrets out from Auden’s Abject Willow.
But, lonely in a heap of introspection,
I, tongue-tied in the sun,
Let quietness pass for character till
Darkness comes.

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