Laying in a bare bed,
a black blanet twined around,
like ivy climbing the trellis that moonlights as a ladder
to the balcony of a lover who has been absent for too long,

thoughts come and go
fleeting feelings of friendship, love, passion

until at last, like a unwelcome invitation
to the wedding of our one true love,
sleep comes to the mind,
releasing colors before our closed eyes.

Remember? Remember
the image of a solid tree.

Loneliness comes with the mixing colors,
flowers grow, bloom, and die
all while the tree stands tall
waiting for a splash of white to erase

The colors that blind our eyes.
The blanket lets go,
As cold takes over the bare bed
betraying us to feelings of numbing desolation.

Olsen W. Potter