Walking through ancient corridors
over rickety bridges
behind new moon shadows
Singing atonal melodies
without breathing
Collapsing umbrella fantasies
Stranded on the edge
of a sand grain
without any salt
Drenched by your wordless rhymes
in my unrecalled dreams
as a cricket gasps
A tiny black kitten
with white paws
and a tiny white tufted ascot
who mews in the softest voice
scampers over to me every night
so that its owner raises a fuss
as it nuzzles into my lap
I hear my dead mother's voice
in the haunted river willow
awaiting the hand of cancer's taut grasp
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