And now something utterly new:

straight-leg
white-linnen
highwater pants
your overstarched vest
hangs low
your stolen golden gaze
pierces.
your neat brown jacket
flaps in the breeze
as you stand
with your hands
in your pockets.
bare feet
long toes
gripping
you whisper silently to the ghosts
of a thousand
empty
miles
and then eat the small rodent in your claws.

kj2008