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)