Snow falls soft upon this town of lathered nightmares.
Let each breathe become a world in unison prolonged.
As gathered masses throng at the palace gates, I await in
Incoherent calms, watching time pass in mechanised routine,
Passing slow within the palm of my hand.
Last night I walked a land of white washed dreams, a land
Of slumbering peace only to be found through the process
Of numbing grace. Porcelain frost sheets the skyline.
Outside, middle-aged clowns slip in sipping the bitter cup
Of slapstick comedy, falling face down in the white washed
Dirt. Draped in nightshirts helping their neighbours in climbing the
Hill, simply for the thrill of descent. Consent in your will,
Fill the hearts of the homeless in this dark hour,
As they run to underground chambers, inciting mystery in the
Imagination of the poet. Soft streams shift the boundaries of this realm.
I’m going under, I trust you’ll remain steady at the helm.
Earth toned angels attune their souls to the Green Mans stride.
Rag and Bone men ramble before the moon, seeking no price
For their time. Only trade is fair game in a world of un-tarnished
Prides. Fruitless, toothless, homeless, breathless, their lies the burden
Of the world upon the shoulders of a form that bears no resemblence to Atlas. He who long since un-burdened the weight from upon his shoulders. There lies a storm brewing upon the horizon, stewing in hollow skull cauldrons. Baited children flock towards suburban myth as four souls tumble in as out Of the blue my heart shakes in the knowledge that the night may well see me through.
David Lacey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/snow-falls-soft-upon-this-town-of-lathered-night/
