Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the leaves smoke the stars
the pale rain nails the mirror
the piano notes bang the angel
who lately fell from the abyss
of cobwebs on the cosmic corner
down by the summer of cat claws
waving at the passing monuments
the shadow floats in a mummy trance
where the deep stony silence waits
like a lady of the endless night haunt
the echo of hollow voices drift off ages
wet footsteps pit patter along a sleeping
guard whose dreams are ever awake
symphonies of eyelids like ghosts call
through green curtains of forgotten caress
the pleasures of feathered hammers rest
waiting waiting in the moaning moonlight
masks of letters walk through the hooded door
to once again remember the entire masterpiece
who once listened to the individual rain drops
in succession go back to the ocean of surging dark
infinities when the stars vast canvas of unfinished
grounds of creation forge on down the memory falls
leaves now at the bottom of the road whisper to ash
as ash colored the dancing dust specks with marked air
those who once breathed this same crown of trees there
and as they stare far far away roads weave travel prayer

I've been wondering what a blade of grass dreams.

Strangely, this poem kinda addresses that.
Again, a stellar read
H

sharp greendream