My photo
Poet, Artist and co-owner of Lasting Images Photography

Wednesday, March 02, 2016


the moon tumbles
into the refuse bin of morning

all dreams both large and small
contain a splinter
of truth, a chink of reality

which is why the comb 
seems to pull 
certain strands of light

from my hair as I blink
before the mirror

I spent the night flying--
a kite dragged across the sky
by an unseen string

dipping and curving, occasionally 
crashing back into my bed

in a dazed heap
of glowing sheets, luminous

unconfined by four walls
that broke open
to the night’s voices

I pick up my toothbrush
to be pulled up through the ceiling

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