sigur rosss

a rowboat,
a sea of lily pads and a sun the size of a silver dollar;

all the colors upside-down,
a night-black pond and a golden flower atop a disc of orange;

the plucked flower,
held in my shaking hands;

i wanted to offer it;
but you were looking away,
into the shining night sky —

or rather the water's surface,
dotted with slivers of brightness,
the sunset's way of laying a comforting hand on my shoulder;


i saw

you




and you
were looking away