Was it illusion,was it a dream?
That Garden in moonlight , ink
Dark sky. A single cloud like a
Razor passing. Black tree stretched
High and it’s claws scratched the
The milky way.Rectangular pond
Black as crude oil deadly still, I
Kneel and gaze deep within; like
Narcissus enamoured and
Transformed. A door into
Summer opens, blinding light
And in one stroke, my Garden
Is no more.
Copyright © David Byrne | Year Posted 2010