I am lying in bed,
With the remnants of thoughts,
Of you, in dreams so red,
And dark, dark plots.
We were reaching for the blue skies,
So close to touching the Moon;
And before we spread our fingers,
We were plunging straight down.
Then I opened my eyes,
Head reeling from the reality of it all,
And I whispered your name,
Hearing only the response of wind's call.
copyright © 2016 thearcticstar