Was it a sequence
Of words
Drifting in and out
Like the last time
I tried to sleep
Through the
Drowning sands
With silica dreams
And dry-mouth

How high
Were the tides
That time
I slipped
On my way
Back up
To city streets
The last thing
Which made
Any difference
In all this

Through the
Forgotten waters
Two by two
They come
With pages
Some blank
Some etched
With cryptic
Scrawling dreams
Left open
Only for interpretation
By words
Left Unspoken
Or screamed
Out loud
The last time
If ever
A sunset graced
Your horizon

poet 3

The Poet part 1