blue and white

Summer, 06:30 am

the painted parapet wall
of an empty terrace

is not subtle mauve
like twilight and whispered love,

nor the blushing gold
that only sunsets
and dusty filament lamps can hold,

but pearl white
like the icy moon at the zenith,
lofty, luminous,
under a brilliant tepid blue.

T. E. Pyrus

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