Pale Sleep Awakens In Fallowed Dreams

Pale sleep awakens. Another light scorns the earth as crooked fingers lash down, their jagged streaks slashed by nagging pall puffs, shattered by lofty white swirls. Breath drawn in- then out, burying itself in rusted, fallowed dreams and nettled streams of daylight bleeding through slatted blinds. Humming drones of life whine along bustling streets. Sphinxian machinery grinds stone to dust, settling somewhere, lost in a terra incognita- finding homes in pink blushed skies, and seaports where the smell of fish and oil hover over wharfs. Market flowers wag brilliant heads, seeking homes. Songbirds scold, haggling over baptism in shallow basins. Dead leaves rattle on pavement, scratching destinies, left to southern winds. The sun tips its hat to the moon, and slides to an end...to begin again.