Image by Tess KincaidDo not ask what more I know.
Gazing in the crystal, the dark parts
grow hazy, small and indistinguishable.
Am I accustomed to midnight,
or are the memories swallowed up in white?
Dreams are shadows of reality, trompe l’oiel,
3-D. Mine were lost, back when cars had wings
and angels had halos. I am a citizen
of the human race. It sounds hollow,
but I will sleep when I am dead. Black snow
continues to fall, so hitch a sled, let's ride
tonight, since the best of times is now.
Tess Kincaid
December 2010
Posted over on her site Willow Manor
Listed as #1 over on Magpie Tales 44
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