01 August 2010

Fog

Breaking a spell
cast invisibility
There's a walking man
finding a way into a dream
left the door wide open
There it is right in
your face, Cheshire grin
and there it is going
back into space
And time, vanishes the cat
Only way it happens
if it's a fog
cloaking the ground for
your walk, silence the steps
Seeping under the cracks
and flooding the room
can't see the door
or the intruder
They are invisible monsters
hiding under the bed
make you cry out hopeless
into the night
Because you can't see
blinded by the divisions
stumbling on ecstasies
confronted by the night
and lost in the veil

2 comments:

AL said...

Just wrote a poem about the rain. Cliche? you ask. Certainly. Necessary? Definitely.

Sun Tzu said...

Rain is easy to write a poem about at least.