Recalling every detail
in false depth and clarity.
Re-living every moment,
changing elements as ghosts
wander in misplaced fantasy.
Birthing new thought
while prompting ideas into
illumination of vision,
naked and stripped
of all assumptions.
Exhausted from chasing
spiraling delusions
of invisible threads,
this daydream's curtainfinally closes.
And I, take my bow.
In a list
Comments
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Chrome, leather and tinted glass - this backgrounds more souped up than a sports car. I likes it!
I can't seem to get my head around this poem, though.
I need something concrete to grasp.
sp: stripped, curtain
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Thanks again Joyce you are just too kind sister
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Very good poem. I see you in Old Poetry. Enjoy.
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