...he rambled to himself... / by Cliff McCormick

Fiercely fall from dream to dream
while fallow phantoms feebly sing
of secrets locked in silence keen;
watches tick; the seconds ring
living li(v)es not as they seem
these fetters follow found'ring flings
the edges lost nigh penumbras gleam
stumblingly exit unmarked; unseen.

-C.Kaye