dream thief

the dream thief spell binder lives
invisible in a meadow green with 
promises stolen among the lying 
 
grass,
 
luring with the false light of
dreams never meant to be,
 
leaving behind the skeletons
of wishes rusting and hidden
in the lying grass,
 
much like the rusting bicycle 
sitting on its side, no more a
person’s reason set to
 
motion;
 
the hands of the weeds grasp
as-to detain, the bell on the 
handlebar now silent,
 
as silent as the black crow fly;
 
sunlight cast, yet by spoked
wheel, the dark remains,
 
clouds roll in slowly as-if
turning like bent wheel 
front flattened,
 
the air around slowly leaking,
 
both sky and tire gasping,
gasping to breathe;
 
little boy delivery now in an
older man’s clothes comes 
to rescue the bicycle, his
 
past;
 
the lantern flickers no more…
 
 
Copyright © 02/19/2013 Barbara Sutton and Lance Sheridan
Image
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