Illusions

The red fills
and rushes in,
a once clear space
once white on the floor,
now pooled along
flushed, splotched tiles,
and I opened my eyes
to time’s only promise.
Fluid lava flow
like a thunder cloud it’s surging
over mountains underwater;
the bigger things can
lie beneath the placidity
in a trick of our sight.

The real trick
is in the back of my brain
where what I want
and what I have
coalesce in my sleep,
and then leave me
with dreams after I wake,
so I’ll hold on
to every second I can,
then retighten my grip.
My mind is not an escape,
but more like a tidal wave.
I’m only trying to ride the crest
to the sand.

Illusions

Nathan Emery

Joined September 2009

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