Sawdust horses

Pull at the reins of sleep
you curve away
caparisoned horses
jangling with 
a head thrown preen
motes and stars pinwheeling


I thought I had you
the circus brightness
of your smile
the acrobats of laughter


But, a rain dull echoing
of shod iron feet


On the roof
a mocking skeleton dancing


It is hard to know
if redoubts
are weak as second thoughts


The shapes you left in sawdust 
now uncertain

Leave a comment