The Blue Room

Sounds that once were uttered fully,
Now in shadow-play;
Remain as ghosts in racial mem'ry
Through the light of day.

Now I lay me down to sleep and
Sky has blinked its eye;
Shapes and thoughts once buried deep can
Spread my lips and fly.

Chestnut streams and iv'ry smiles seek
Charms in poppy's spell;
Finch-wings flutter on a child's cheek,
Soft and caramel.

Restless twists of vines and branches,
Blown by self-full breaths;
Swathed in black, the angel dances
With the little deaths.

Slowed and pressed, a deep-sea diver
Inks upon a page;
Muffled footsteps of a tiger
Stalk him through the sage.

Leans a street-lamp in the window,
Rising 'gainst the wind-
Slender lines of blue-lit shadow,
Tripping on the end.

This is where the flyers fall to,
Past the navy sky,
Where the lost un-strangers crawl to,
Boxed within a sigh.

Darkness moments filed away for
Darkness to recall-
Heaven knows it's what we pray for
When our feathers fall.

Tracking through wet sands of time we
Walk the tidal shore,
'Til a wave can claim us, fin'lly,
Rousing us no more.

--Megan Morris, meikundayo@yahoo.com