Misty rain fogs my vision

at night the sounds

go pitter and patter and then something else

that isn’t quite there

I listen

I listen in vain

I listen to the rusty gold of

a passerby’s lantern light

bobbing here and there as in

a firefly of the night

My reflection is pale blue

and a bit longing

the sounds of long toned flutes

and sullen skies

As the moonlight wanes,

waxes,

crescents its yellow luminescence on my face,

I awaken.

The night is still, and

I feel strange as if I am in the

faraway depths of an ocean that has

consumed me

the submergence of a head in a

cold pool

the unconscious mist that will

never fade to clearing

Like the missing piece of mind that only

sprouts from forgetting something

or the pendulum wearaway of time

I feel distant,

gone,

away from this world

as the final tendrils of sleep

grasp me

and take me away