Incandescence II

As cars tore by with firm intent to get where they would be,
their headlights sharp and motors loud as whirlwinded sea,
and lampposts drooped their yellowed spheres along the sleeping lanes,
I strolled with flurries falling fast against my pinkened face.
With buttoned coat, and collar turned against the winter eve,
through incandescent air aglow from snow and moonlight beams,
I dreamed of you, and palindromes, and words in upper case,
with violet lips and tendrils tangled wet aside my face.