17 Apr 2016 – Return

Washed up on the shore of silence.
Kitty here – he wants his breakfast.
A sea of half remembered dreams,
bright seaglass lying in my hand.

Where was I? What blocked desire
brush stroked on its hidden parchment
gave my soul a ready roadmap –
to find its way, and still return?

Even now the colors darken,
fleeing down the hidden highway,
back the way they came unhindered,
back to nights unconquered city.