sun stutters through a tattered shade
creating an opalescent patchwork
of gently broken beams

in the sequestered garden
a toppled obelisk
finds warmth,
keeps watch

in the mine
green canaries
breathe as though oblivious to the here-and-gone spark

it is a day as like
and
as unlike as all the others..

the locket is worn smooth, its faded contents secure...

we are pastiche...all the rest is eldritch and sward-bloom

delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/odalisque-s-view/