Drifts

Sleep threatens like a storm that arrives when it’s dark
Ominous shrouds enclose your form in a uddle of sheets
The mattress convinces your position as you drift
A small boat in the open seas

A lone bird flies above the tides
Wingtips cut the waves as its feet skim the still water
Leaving a memory that dissipates
The time wears on and paintings emerge

The clouds clear away and the sky glints knowing all
Time is forgotten as you run along an alley

Familiar resting uneasy on each shoulder
and struggles with the faint scrawl
You hear it scratch the surface
And you drown in symbols that clatter under your soles

Your metal feet detach and now you fly over a landscape
or tortured growth,
a forest of gestures and endless miles of toil
unfurling into music playing in the past

Drifts into and out of
playing the flute
your awareness
your eyes blink

And the morning appears

The sunlight and all forgets