I made a makeshift person,
And his eyes are blue
Like mornings breaking.
His lips, they’re full
As summers seem
From February states of mind
And, smiling, they make perfect
Sense of cigarettes
And pouring rain.

He hasn’t any name,
But what’s the difference
When his hair is blonde
As sunset on those winter days
Whose cold dilutes the open places
Treetops only dream to be,
So evening makes a memory
From sterner stuff
And earnest guesses,
And my makeshift man
Just carries on.

I’ve made a temporary man,
And he’s so wonderful to talk to,
For he always argues stridently
For points I think are mine.

#Melbourne #Australia

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