Taciturn Midnight Poem by Patti Masterman

Taciturn midnight tosses my dreams,
Touching my nightmares, wandering again;
Juggling my hours, mixing the streams:
Then I wake up thinking, where have I been?

Mind when asleep; an unfathomable pot,
Chasing after invisible things
Random facsimile dramas and plots-
And when we wake up, the screenplay just hangs.

No use pursuing the play interrupted;
The only reel was the one in your brain
As it gathered up images and intercepted-
Not even one frame will be left where you lay.