They Fall

I smoke my dreams in a bone pipe and blow excuses to the wind. They rise so fast, anxious to touch the sky. Hitting a glass heaven I watch my dreams retreat from the unexpected barrier above.

They fall. They fall so beautifully from the sky as they tumble back down to reality. Back down to me. Such a perfect example of my life is seen that I cannot deem it all a failure. Instead I contemplate upon visual orgies in the sky. I watch for the magic of the moment before they fall. Because they all fall in the end.


12 thoughts on “They Fall

  1. Did you ever post a poetry book to amazon? Would love to see you re-post a series of 10 of your personal favourites from the past. One fav. per day for the next 10 work days… skip the weekend.


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