Propinquity

Post meridian
it's an evocative day
where a table of thought
has studied me unkempt,
can makes me misrepresent.
For in blinking excuses
chuffed eyes are must
my festival of musing
hasn't barely caught up.
So for now, its deceiving,
its sunshine screaming through,
through tinted glass hinting
on an ephemeral afternoon.
And its blazing red light
includes striking sun rays
peacefully lilting
heart beating and dancing
fetching this pen's grasp.
This moment shan't fleet
it'll obey and cash on
a woebegone evening, now furtive in ask.
And the festival will flower
gently setting up canopies,
a picnic of rhymes or a
fleeting fair of propinquity?