glassbox eyrie

in your glassbox eyrie we lay on cloudpillows
and dreamed of poetry and pictures

down below the flotsam flowed
and scum collected in off-white corners

up here where the swans flew with outstretched necks
the sounds of the streets could not be heard

like the silence that snow brings, you said
or the quiet at 4am

when all the clutter has been swept away
and the albino creatures come out to play

is there a point to all this hiding away, I asked
the foreverdreaming and the cloud painting?

but you were gone in a feather
blown on a breeze of your own making

drifting to your next glassbox eyrie
to lie on cloudpillows and dream of poetry and pictures

3 thoughts on “glassbox eyrie

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