I sang a song in my dream last night, and the words fell right in tune
and I could hear the beckoning of the fullness of the moon,
but when I woke the moon had waned; the lyrics – they had passed
and the music hung in the silent air to tease as it failed to last.
I rummaged through my tattered dream and clung to remnant rays
that scattered through the ashes of the dawning of my day,
but tighter grasps unwound the clasps of threads in threadbare notes
and long before the day began,
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