Some Trails Of Dreamy Thoughts Poem by RIC BASTASA

there are times of
sleep
walking, and there is no one there to tell you about it, but you
sort of
remember,

clouds surrounding your hair
rain falling upon your
cheeks
waters rushing under the
bridge of
your nose

dawn is the coldness of your hands
sunlight, yes,
warm in your armpits,
winds, songs of birds,
inside your brain, an island
a moat,
a palace without soldiers
a kingdom of stones
without a queen

there are princesses of
reminisces
old pages inside a room
with candles still
burning
the eyelashes of your
past.