I can see in the dark night.
I can see a deadly fight.
The small town is about to fall.
No one will be left here at all.
More shadows come to the town.
One is wearing a gold crown.
The trade winds grow in force.
I’ll meow till I’m hoarse.
Bells ring around us.
I won’t make a fuss.
Time has come to an end.
To The Dead, I won’t bend.
THE DEAD GAME
Can you see my innermost thoughts?
Some people hide their thoughts,
while others show every feeling.
Are you an open book?
My toes feel numb.
My fingers tingle.
The wind howls.
Sleep tempts me.
But I must continue.
The view waits for me.
A few more steps.
Silence wraps its arms around me.
I raise my face to the sky.
The colors take my breath away.
Brush strokes of blue and gray
to fill in the puffy clouds.
Crayon swipes of teal and aquamarine
to meet the neverending horizon.
Each wave swell of purest white
rises from the depths of dark blue.
My fingers reach for the canvas.
My eyes travel to the brushes.
I shake my head.
No painting is needed.
No copy will diminish the essence
of a perfect summer day at the shore.