scattering of stones

a dyke hand built, calloused hands

back – long since broken

a cat is purring

reverberating, nudging

the tea from my hand

a streak of sunlight

slicing dark clouds apart, stopped

short at grimy panes

memories as sharp

and dry as grains of sand blown

on a desert wind

peek behind the mask

eyes that see, a heart beating

his poetic soul

with trepidation

I enter a new system

for which no road map

motionless morning

the sky a smooth grey canvas

for your brilliance

It’s time now to leave

the world of dreams and enter

the virtual day