But you see, there is no end, there
is no starting over, what has been, has been,
placed into your memories, vivid
images alive with feeling and colour,
hidden under a muddle of
distractions, rhythms and routines,
but 3am is the time they rise onto
the surface and either lovingly stroke your weary eyelids
or pillage through the darkness
with the subtlety of a tank in midday traffic,
stealing every grain of sand left
by the sandman, to their mirthful laughter you are left
to relive their offering, tirelessly,
in the darkened auditorium of the world.
Restless thoughts or pets gone batcrap crazy for no reason whatsoever?
ReplyDeleteAhhhhhh! I do believe we know each other...you in gorgeous poetry....me in plain ole prose.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written. Thank you Shadow.
Charlee: "Hmm have you been watching what Chaplin and I do around the house at 3am?"
ReplyDeleteChaplin: "Sure sounds like it!"
Baby, it's cold outside … https://youtu.be/peargM8CPoU … Much love, cat
ReplyDeleteThere is only ‘now’ and those 3:00 am walks into another realm where there is yet another’now’ filled with a constrasting form of reality under star and moon a new script unfolds.
ReplyDelete