Dream scape at night when you were not beside me

Time melts for sure you have seen
how Dali did it once tables float in air
hairs become rain and eyes
can be suns or moons in technicolor
skies like sweeping brooms made of
leafless branches of dead trees
in all these there is one horrible limitation

the soundless passing of images like
fog and mist and smoke and breaths

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Share
 
 
This text contains a mistake
This text is duplicate
The author of this text is another person
Another problem

More info, if necessary

Your name

Your e-mail