’twas the most baffling mood of morning
Painted in streaks of gloom and glow
Pale crescent yet to leave dull skies
And the aviator was off for an early flight.

Half-awake-half-asleep thoughts flew wobbly
Rose up where the shooting star was seen last
Stale wish still smelled of vanilla
In memory of what once was a Sputnik.

I grabbed the paddle and sailed toward the stream
With much less current flashing against huge waves
Of tempting, addictive baits—
Au Revoir! Au Revoir!” — a whisper.

Ripples growing, shaking the canoe
Au Revoir! Au Revoir!
The sound no longer choked,
But, you would still be missed!

© Gheeneil


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