Golden rush

Circling its way through a child’s hair
to the amber grasses of a slow sunset,
an old clarinet plays humoresques.

In high notes their song
still resonates on top of sea waves,
inside our eyes.

Golden fragments
of an invisible dress
shape stars.

In millions of ways
within a golden veil,
the Guardian of the Holy Grail
reveals where she dwells.

Out from infinite nets,
swirls of glitter fall on achromatic days.