Submitted by Nick Catron
What ghost could be left, in the waking of a dream
When pastels still paint, for the eyes of your wall
And the whispers still glisten, seemingly obscene
Understanding the fiction, but the truth not at all
It’s the nightmares in tandem, perfected for proof
That we share for the moment, biding our time
And yet we hasten to nothing, most days stay aloof
Until the hour of our passing, and the bell tolls its chime
Photo credit: Duddon Sands, Cumbria – JMW Turner
Vita Brevis Press. 
“When pastels still paint, for the eyes of your wall” Beautiful!
Thank you very much 🙂
Nice sound. I liked this line: “Understanding the fiction, but the truth not at all”
Thank you 🙂
I’m with Frank Hubeny on this one.
Thank you 🙂