Treasure Island

Mark R Slaughter


Dissipation


Night
On a corner

I stood

Time-blurred

Marble-still

In a street-post
Way

Watching
Floes of eons
Draw down
Faults
Of past reality

In moon-dead way
Of mind

Over time
A shadow-figure
Saw me through

No more a meaning

Like a blend
Of blackened greys
At one with night
Assigned
As fog

Dissipating

I sort of
Drift away

As did she

Upon a day

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012

Submitted: Tuesday, May 08, 2012
Edited: Friday, June 15, 2012

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