by Ralph Koschnitzke

Created on: July 22, 2010

Veiled, the breeze wisps through my window
Flowing over my place of rest
Patterned dreams of mediocrity dance
On the edge of a night standing on dreams
A Knight of arbor keeps watch and whispers
Which way the wind blows.
Which way the seasons change.
The needlework still remains even if
Worn on the window for all to see, but not into.
Shade rolled tight, against the night
For a sheer moment in an another season's mourning.
Let the wind inside, play, run, hide.
Where thoughts want to jump through my window
To the other side.
To color my world for one wonderful moment.

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