The Dresden Well

When wondering in dreams

humming the songs of silent nightingale hymns
The poppy seeds of my grandmother’s garden
fill my pockets and my thoughts of bloom
The nothing room I coexisted within behind the ivy wall
The eyes of green vanished bricks glaring, sinisterly staring
I turn my back upon the winged hills
And canter down the path my Linen Angel took
With every breath forsook
With every batting eyelash opening the books
of the many fantasies that I’d long seen
And in the marionette strings
That sauntering shadow that follows
The one I named “Thing”
I dance down to the Dresden Well, his wishing tales
and opera reveries my lullabies
He reaches behind my ear and unfurls a star
And with a tip of a hat and a fervent bow
He blows a kiss and swishes his cloak and gone
My star brightly blaring in my palms
It goes in with my grandmother’s seeds
I say goodbye to Thing
I bid farewell to the hills and good day to the moon
And I take my leave
Waking amongst my covers and light.

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