Leaving You To Work Out Your Own Dream Poem by Ted Davis

Feel the moonlight on the path?
See the mist behind the fence?
All the flies are dead.

Burning doors are shut.
Spirits whisper
Dreaming children.

Feel the phantom on the path?
See the mist behind the moon?
Roaches hear your breath.

Black doors are glowing.
Death is staring at a rock.
Feel the blackness of the path?

See the man behind the fence?
He seems to know you.
He seems to want you.


Dreaming spirits
Children whisper

I wish I could help you now,
But I’m meeting a phantom.
This night is yours to finish.
I may not return.