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May 14, 2011

walking north at dusk,

the river brown,

sky darkening,

clouds painted in every shade of grey


walking south,

the river black,

the sky so quickly full of night,

coaxing out bright lights

from amber gourds on lampposts,

from streetfronts and rooftops,

wat and palace gleefully budded for a birthday


and in response, the sky suddenly blazes

in multicolour

with fireworks

surging up above the river

like so many exotic and incandescent vegetables


I stop and stand by a golden lion to watch.

A teenage gecko, unimpressed by such displays,

scampers down the lion and into the dark


swoops and splashes,

with bangs rebounding from the palace walls behind.

the colours explode,

then fall slowly

turning to smoke

that hangs on the far bank

and fades gently

into darkness

and memory


walking south

a patient moon,

partially obscured by cloud,

reasserts itself

in its part of

the sky

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