Sleepwalking

Sometimes I dream of poetry.
Of words falling
Beautiful and slow
Everlasting images
Slightly out of focus
Of the perceived natural view;
At times I dream of laughter
Unfortunately most times it's pain;
I dream of the man across from me
With the Old English in his hands
(At 7:40 in the morning mind you)...

I awake in a haze
The songs almost out of reach
Most-times
And just like him
I need a fix
So I dig
Deep
Beyond my eyes and theirs
Searching for my carbonated remedy
My second set of eyes
By which to see the world
And the shadows of those stanzas
That escape me.

Shadows that change their positions
With the angle of the sun
Brilliant noons
Haunting ones
Elongating their influences
Until they are one
Blanket of darkness
For me sleep beneath
Waiting for songs of eloquence
I'll forget again tomorrow morning...
©2009clarencecbess