Journeygods temporarily satisfied
I’m falling, all too willingly
Into a highwayman sky –
Reality’s Greased Tarot boards
Tumbling, so easily away.
Gentle, borrowed light
Has fine dark edges;
I hear distant traces
Of thin, deep lines of music.
Smoke carries shadow stories
That twist and change.
Prodigal silhouettes are returned
To the harvest yard again.
The almost invisible
Possesses undeniable beauty.
29/11/2012