Love was abducted,
stashed away in some secret cache,
doomed to die.
Music was lost to cacophony
while rheumy lands misted up with misery.
The days became sunless.
Yet
sunshine people emerged from every dark corner
walking the streets.
Anyone might have taken them
for a flamboyance of flamingos.
Through their crystal skin I saw
love flowing in thick red.
All is not lost.
