Understanding the Fiction


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

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