Roger Singer

Cloudless night

sleep forsaken for

the lack of dreams

 

walking softly outside

under a carpet of stars

shadows from branches

are cast onto a

narrow dirt path

 

light breezes disturb

wax twisted leaves,

a fright to imagine

if it were ghosts

moving about

 

there is a sense

of being unearthed

and homeless

standing on the

birth of dust.