The Pass
In the pass they met
She in black beret with pigeon strips
A four-gown visual weight
He a white sleeve floating over a blow
Sort of heater
Impressing eventual travel
Are you warming?
Warm’s hard for such a thin thing
She flapped up a layer, tell me minister
Why float all night in this covered pass
Then rattle off at the moon
The tune
People are small
This is incredible