Preternatural

The occasional nightmare haunts my days,
pinpoints a feeble rage snarling
at the serenity overtaking me.
Surrounding objects diffuse into prancing motes.
The smallness of me shrinks to
the infinitesimal; consumed by a field
of luminous energy.
Larger parts break away,
falling into unending space -
I reach out to caress them
one last time.

Nostalgias burden me;
cloying dreams that seek revive -
the taste of clover bitten through
on the first warm day.
Not the act nor the thing;
but a feeling invoked.
I wonder about this medial state,
this undiagnosable condition;
this river into which I’ve culled the fork -
listening for the waterfall uproar
as I near the edge.

When morning comes,
I marvel at clouds dabbled in layers.
A muted palette mounded idly overhead -
sometimes racing, shouldered by the wind;
wispy tatters trailing like fringe.


© 2002 Melissa Songer