father had dreams for me
dreams now written in dust
on the funeral pamphlet
deepening the affair with empty space
my thoughts sit abandoned
and heavy with sleep
the inner flame still pierces
and I could tell you of it's rending
the sterile, white walls, around the garden
of my mother's jealousy
the impermanence of the flowers
pearl green carpets and empty bells
the broken clock above the hearth
a knock at the door
the thump of a stunned sparrow
against the bay window
signaling nature's growing mistrust
a whimper from the weathervane
as I learn to forget my own dreams
when I wake
the crows dismember the sky
black thoughts
black tears
black saliva
snatches of insipid winter music
and the twisted face of the liar
in the dark I find myself unabashed
all is naked
all is white
my tears roll through space
the alabaster handle of dad's switchblade
now set so far from away the sea
I wake only when touched
it's far too cold to move tonight
all of my family is light years away
About the Creator
Timothy James Lane
Sea Ghost
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