A Vision Soon Unseen
A wonderland awaits,
For all who dare to enter,
To fall down through the ground,
And to the world surrender.
There anything can dare to pounce,
Or growl or prowl or prance,
Or break out in black pustules,
Spinning in a dance.
A world unsure in peachy fuzz,
Airs fizzing effervescent,
Adds new dimensions, onion layers,
A moon of seven crescents.
Down falls the leaded curtain,
Velvet shields the scene behind,
Of sweating swans with bleeding toes,
Cracked from pointe, those hollow bones.
And trichotillomaniacs,
Pluck out their flightless plumes,
So shot-down shrapnel downs,
Are hung on hooks as hunted gowns.
Copyright © Alice Reynolds | Year Posted 2025
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