Shadows creep into your night wrap-round 

                                                 your nightmare, crease into the pillow 

           that you used to be fond of         crawl down

                                    capture the timepiece that          slipped to the floor.  

You’ve done something unspeakable last night 

        or think you have. Someone is what you need most.

Who would that be?                 You’re alone in that chair 

small, scared, cornered there.

       You need someone.        But who would you tell 

                                                that terrible secret to?       Then wait?

You look 

                 in the corner spiders?

Are they there?                        It’s raining… and a bird sits on the pine branch. 

The sheer movement sends drips then a brief glossy

                                                                          bath.  It shines like stars. 

Is it your tree?  

                                A shadow flies close, then disappears, the light 

catching a wing tip. 

Picasso would know of your hallucinations. 

      A strange phenomenon to those who wait for a sign. 

           Hawks like ducks

           Butterflies like hawks. 

You awake with a flinch

           Ducks like eagles. 

                    and look for your dream– the color or the darkness.

         In the nearest corner all your tired eyes can see

                     is the winged shadow with its crossed body fading. 

Light pours into the room–                                                          mornings it away.