Late Night Poetry

A Speck Of Life

the room is light and full of faded sun,
yet within glassy reflections therein lies darkness,
somehow I catch visions of the past in a glint,
a speck of youth splayed against the soda stained cup,
I wonder if I'll ever come back to where I started,
where this senseless journey began,
where I once germinated.

we live to tell the tale,
but we die to live the tale.

remnants are our pacifiers,
we suck away
until they shrivel and fade
torn apart through the abrasion of passing moments

we speculate at the specular species within our dreams,
special as they often can be seen,
through the mind's unblinking eye.

somewhere, someplace, sometime -
someone witnesses a glint of light on the handlebars of their tricycle,
to see blurred whispers of myself looking at the dirtied glass,
migrated through needlenose rays in my bedroom lamp