EUROMOOD

Hold fast to these things:
these moments of beauty
that die as swiftly
as Spanish boys' music
echoing outward
in waves of gathered lights
from a soft street corner.
I had no change to give,
but I can offer devotion
to this moment,
before the final note
sounds the end of gentle blessings
I hold fast to their beauty
and blue eyes.
A cadence
not quite properly melodic
through the fog of traffic breezes
and the laughter of familiar crowds
gasious glee
from a lady who stops to oblige with dancing,
while I
just give a happy glance.

But I keep vigile from my balcony.