PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A crescent moon, through distant fields, it is finally the month of July.  Marshall County, fragrant pine and lonesome summer.  I miss my brother.  Dreams ascend like spirits into the silver midnight.  In the clearing, a séance among forgotten friends.  Day-dreams, vermillion skies, and indigo could never be, as good as you.  Why do you conceal, your thoughts like a distant shoreline, hidden among ghost-like mists.  Shadows uncoil beneath your eyes,  like a stranger I've never known, who are you, who will you be, who could you be?  Do you recognize me, in the gathering filtered light of dawn.  Dusk melts deceit from the scarlet horizon, sacred like the eastern sky.  Love floods the mind like oblivion, drowning consciousness in the metamorphosis of the soul.  I have known so many, so many to falter and fall, fade in misconception, deception, the perception of the unknowing.  But I have learned to ride, let it fade, let it go like a kite, like a comet across the Milky Way sky like freedom on this amorphous mystical night.