lines found on my desk; I don’t remember writing
crocodiles in dreams
tombs burnished with crushed
gold a white alabaster water jug
stands in the museum dreaming of the
sculptor who carved it millennia ago
the man lost himself in
time he observes his masterpiece
here now and
somewhere in between but
nowhere really time lost in
water I awake with words singing
in my dream mind his footprints in the
garden
3 thoughts on "lines found on my desk; I don’t remember writing"
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These always make cool poems because we can wonder together about what you were thinking when you originally wrote these lines. Love the imagery.
I love love the flow & imagery. Well done!
Like so much this poem and finding lines forgotten, random & assembling a possible context.