Dreams lie like wet leaves in roadside puddles;
torn,
mottled,
dying,
Words cut like the skaters blade on country ponds;
sharp,
jagged,
clipped,
Visions soar on eagles weakened and crippled wings;
rising,
drifting,
falling,
Hope sits sullenly on rusted garden benches;
flaking,
collapsing,
uneven,
Love shrieks like a fledgling in the throes of a traitorous death;
piercing,
helpless,
lost.
by Mrs Darling 2004
