Dream Pageant

Thoughts on dreams and images of a place of my past.

I walk about in my dream pageant.
Eternal moon-colored sculptures
always remember me from
the cold sunlight and shadows
of that spring.
I creep beneath my skin,
chase a lost season;
wander through lives almost
incubated. Thoughts murmured
in a deep blue language.
On occaison the Never turns time
out into a life thick
with shade, no air, nor sound.
Above me a dark bird flies,
waiting for the fall.
I lay under this
beautiful cloudy vacation
when hard sleep shivers by.