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Without a dream, without a bookmark

Story-telling will unfold

Writhing sheets accumulating wrinkles

Melatonin lingering into the new morning

Evening sums dusk equal rights

We rest in darkness, covered

Comforter struggle suggested until the sun spots

Lights your exhibited sleep marks

Fragmented by delusion, the insufferable

Conquistador diligent of interrogation

Partial for the inquiry's misguided statements

Rainment meant for a king walks slowly

From an isle platform, in a blistering moment

Walking the plank of some's entitlements

Buried treasure ever seeking

Never would conspire to look within

It is therapeutic to discover the days of old

In the library, in the gardens loose dirt

Family ties, knots; buried art

Artifacts composed

Comparison negotiates to and fro

For the forthwit memories can bring to life

Gains an apprehensive retrieval

The old seeming more mystical than a future to bear.

© 2017 Courtney Grant

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