
Arms wide, in the air,
partying like the eighties—
wispy clouds scatter.

Arms wide, in the air,
partying like the eighties—
wispy clouds scatter.

Strolling at sunset,
racing the deep horizon,
to awake the moon.

From beyond the trees,
like a dead man arising—
the sun gathers mist.

Sparkle in my eye,
the smell of a new city,
skip of a heart beat.

Those bygone eras:
faded shades, vintage arches,
small pockets; big hearts.