On Falling Asleep At A Concert Poem by Colin Pickett

The notes careened across the wall
across the hall,
and through the air.
Silent streams of distant thoughts
rose above the empty chairs.
Afraid to sleep,
but weak in flesh,
my eyes fell up into my mind.
There they saw the songs and sounds;
the images the conscious
cannot find.

Inside myself,
inside the hall,
I dreamt of all the players.

They waved like kelp
below the sea
and swayed to keep
the time.

Pages fell around the stage,
fell the bars and lines.
I walked amoung the music
until it died.

Alone and dark,
the hall appeared
slowly to dream filled eyes.
I left
to enter the outside day and
let the dreams and music
flow far away.