Waking Dream

Moonlight in broken window reflections
the insomniac’s drug
it turns around
this hollow orb
until it’s morning again

And always
feeling up the wall
love I knew in black and white
projected on far away screens
a faded close up
a lingering kiss
until the black and then

The insomniac’s drunken walk
down a white ribbon in the hot sun
gravel and dust rising at every stumbling kick of feet

Black dogs with human faces
grin but keep their distance
circle on circling

I could close my eyes
but still be awake
still turn over on this waking dream

Fingers fumbling eyes
the swollen lids violet
still I linger

Two rows of stone faced men sat, waited
and still they wait
presided over by a black-face god
white, gray

Two sets of stone men on a stone board
waiting until I linger to play
my finger hovering just over their featureless faces
upturned

This waking dream of wind
the sea
a glass leaning tree by the side of a road
the top tier leaves turned up
their underbellies white as snow
flowering flakes

Acacia
I dreamt of Greece
pale-barked groves and Diana

A nest box for decoration
the hole plugged
painted red sign of welcome

Fence the fields
the ridgeline fence the sky
bone thin boundary between this and the other concave orb
that I guess is spinning.