The buds, the keys, the leaves
those leaves, the colours, bare trees…
Can’t be wistful about money.
Wistful’s got you know wist.
Plenty other things to go wistful on.
Take that G— works the desk
make you wistful. Faraway
train in the night make you.
Sun hits your neck when you have some
free time turn you wistful.
Shadow of a low plane arcing through
Eglinton Park. Trysts that you keep
on a map in your brain, places you save
in your savoury memory. Mansions
you fashion from stars from the sky
you can reach them from bed through September
night air. Open windows, all the rooms
in the world, I guess space can make you wistful.
Botany in time in season after season
in scrutiny fields of dandelion fluff
it’s a fact: sniffing can also make
you wistful.
The tender of wistful
is daydreams.
Of dreams in the night
the tender is metaphor.
All this is precious little to do with money.
Wistful consists of space and free time: on occasion
it’s misspelt as “wasteful.” Some folks just plain
don’t get it. Some do. Some point
they take the time to pause
to stop resisting wistful.