Come, friend that crawls,
Thing that scuttles from faintest light,
Horrid apparition that hides its face;
Stand with the blackest night,
My skull revealed in awful majesty
Atop my cape of dark childhood fears,
Flowing in a wind of charnel fog.
I summon thee from the torment of years…
Archive for August 25, 1991
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I doze off
to wake up
surrounding by stars
floating on a sea
of moth dust
and butterfly wings
with children singing
nursery rhymes
and I can’t move;
there are so many flowers
all bearing fruit
lightning arcs between stars
as I watch the dance
of their rotation
then doze off
and wake up
here.
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