The Leaves that Fall on Dreams

It’s how the light falls
On picture frame or dark glass,
The potter’s floss of words
Or memory’s discarded stash.

A sudden glimpse that fracture makes:
This is where I try again,
Where the leaves that fall on dreams
Sway on instead, enjoin their soundless song.

Day-talk breathes less than promises.
But it’s how the light speaks
Back to us instead, between breaths
Of endless time.

(16 March 2016)

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2 thoughts on “The Leaves that Fall on Dreams

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