Some dreams bow out shapeless,
Scramble under a mantle of fog.
The murky sun and the gravel road,
Lived the austerity of the time.
Eyes scour for light,
And diffidence bleats louder.
The night smothered the quiet flames,
Sunrise shifts swiftly toward sunset.
Though the dark light dampened,
Eyes still quint.
Soaring stairs of shadows,
Roll of old wallpapers,
And mosaic of paint drips.
The centrifugal compassion,
That only meant to unbind us.
Fleet of will,
Went careening down the hill.
Hands moved in silence,
Overflowing rain barrels,
Swamped the estuaries of dreams.