In dreams my feet are wet with sand,
By salty pools of earth and stone,
I contemplate the souring height,
Of summits cupped within my hand,
Their bodies coated dreary greys,
Soaking wraps of writhing mist,
Makes quieter lonely amplitudes,
And shortens days,
Further still the bleak nadir,
Fusing lands and gelid sky,
Its shady copses full of fear
And so am I,
This place is groing smaller now,
As lands have nowhere else to go,
The outermost eternities,
Begin to show,
And sky has lost its dreamy hue,
A doldrums silence grips the sea,
The Sun devoured by the moon,
…Infallibly,
Slatey shelves are rising now,
I’m standing tween tectonic walls
Their mammoth peaks reduce the sea,
To waterfalls,
The waking world diffuses in,
Its groggy hold begins to take,
I vaguely watch what’s happening,
Until I wake…
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