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In the attic looking out at the moon
that has slowly turned to ice since
the disappearance of my child, the
twilight tracks my status through the
wild forms my shadows assume.
My left eye cries the other is frozen
like the moon. As daylight advances
the moon begins to melt opening an expanse
of shivering memories, I give birth to
the moons ghost. I can hear the sound
of water running but the taps are turned
off when I go into the bathroom, from the
window I can see that sunflowers have grown
over-night. The shadow on the sun dial moves,
the winds lift and push the clouds together
blocking the sun.

Eating breakfast the usual script in my head
changes, the smell of sunflowers drifts into
the kitchen. After eating I put food out for
the birds but they too have disappeared. The
voices in my head are amplified as I collect
the sunflowers,my child's voice drowns within
the sound of his troubled heartbeat.

I get dressed and check my watch, it is later
than i thought. After picking up the flowers
and locking the front door I check my watch again,
the time has changed once more, either the watch
is broken or it is playing tricks on me.

Walking to the cemetery happiness resides within me
as a temporary guest. I can hear the rain fall from
the bare skies but cannot feel or see it, the world
of dreams has trespassed into this earthly realm, I am
allowed to rest in it's fleeting slipstream.

Water runs down my wife's grave, someone has already
planted sunflowers. The sun shines fakely with rays like
thorns, birds above fill the skies they talk to me but
I cannot understand their shrill cries. I want the birds
to ferry a message to God because they closer to heaven
than I am. Sunflowers are planted on nearby graves and emit
a strange fragrance, incense from hell perhaps. The cemetery
gates have been closed, above I can see my child encased in
the ice moon that appears. The winds freeze my ghostly tears
turning them into a fountain, the birds peck at the moon
freeing my child who tumbles to the earth. The world of dreams
has trespassed on to this earthly realm. One hand of my watch
ticks for the this world, the other hand ticks for the valley
of dreams.

whoever you are come forth these are the days that must happen to you.

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The following comments are for "Icemoon"
by icemoon

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