Houdini Sleeps
"Houdini Sleeps"
Somewhere in the dark night
all her words flew in scattered fright
like a skyful of black ink in white cloud covered plight
all murdered crows,
in sleepless vast flight.
Confederate ghost always close, but never seen,
she walks toward him
through her walled up dreams.
Writing was like music to her.
High notes. Low notes. Hidden keys.
She thought about tattoos.
Hers were silent. Her words and images
were on the tip of her tongue.
Hidden Key.
Houdini. Sleeps.
(Lovejoy-Burton/August 2012)
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