My glass memory

It was one of those nights…

The ancient eavesdropper

At night when I flip the switch OFF

and the only remnant of light shines through the blinds

from some distant lunar bulb screwed in skyward over vacant streets,

I descend into dreams, far removed in space and time

where clarity lounges around wearing dark shadows in my mind.

I cannot tell in what dimension I dwell or if I dwell at all,

my subconscious illuminates everything 

while I hopelessly attempt to regain a conscious calligraphy

by which to record a moment I may inhabit and learn 

outside the caverns of chaotic confusion and infinite creation.

My brain hears echoes emanating from no visible source

as if it were possible to skip pennies in a waterless wishing well.

These sweaty palms I perceive, my claustrophobic curiosity 

cramped up in a boxing ring, shuttering to comprehend 

Mr. Sandman’s round about way of KO-ing memory.

Shivering like Jello, entering the final stages…

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About tyler4turtles

I am an avid photographer, poet, ecologist, bookworm, blogger, art enthusiast and runner who calls Montana home but lives in Oregon.
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