Dreams...

 

Empty is the poet

The words have withered like the lepers hand

 Exhausted by stilted hope

Stifled in loneliness and ennui

Beyond now is forever

And before forever was yesterday

Winter comes when summer dies

And snow buries dreams

In cold dark caverns

Over which

The poet walks wrapped in scarf and wool

Reciting under frozen breath ~ The Hollow Men

Only these words audible

“Between the idea

And the reality

Between the motion

And the act

Falls the Shadow…”