Over the ledge a lady in shades
And heel-kiss, a teacup's arm.
Face lit alive like an island afloat
In the green placid water wide.
Len-man unseen; patience seen.
A shipped smile, wind-chasing
Hair of smoke, silent snap,
A piece of her left behind.
P.S.: Was reading at "Page One". I've finally come to terms with the truth that my poems are at best, mediocre.