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.
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