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Night Riding
A long night folds inwards.
Fast breathless dreams run together,
old stories retold
absent of beginning's or endings.
Between them
lucid periods, when the mind
reviews many fleeting scenes
seeking reasons or even
a prophetic forecast
to hang tomorrow upon.
The house creaks
as if he were walking the floor,
but deep within a suffocating bed
he is chained to tumbling thoughts,
while a hard riding night
ties him down upon
a stampeding rocking horse.
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
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