PARTING

Across the blurred lines of time
I passed
and saw my yesterday
amid the steeples and towers
where once
heaven thrived.
But now it is a fleeting
thought.
A place only
of unanswered questions
drifting into a yawn,
By a wink
have I come
to the wounded shore
inside a barrel
filled with sleep costumes
testing my eyes,
Tomorrow
could yet
be a party.