23 Nov

And there she lay,

Deep beneath the willow tree

The silver birches sway

with the reeds of the cattails,

and her wispy light tresses.

She sleeps soundly in the light of the moon

to the lullaby of a sweet nightingale

Or perhaps, a meadow lark.

Face illuminated the silvery dust of

Dusk and twilight mingled,

Night and night, intertwined into one.

Time is hard to tell in this world,

And perhaps it does not exist at all

Within this silent world of dreams,

This whole world will be cloaked

in reflective silver darkness

And infinite twinkling stars.

The sun has not risen since the beginning of time, perhaps,

And the world of street cars and cities

Had already disappeared…

The memory of that world is fading,

Disintegrating into the pitch-black void of my mind,

And perhaps it was a million millenniums from when those days existed.

 

 

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