Tuesday, September 13, 2011


James Dinsmore

Fleeting shades of consciousness
Days and dreams
That merge and pass.
A moment of awareness that cannot last,
As motion flows too fast.

An illusion of progress in space and time,
Memories that glow as though defying
The futility of calling the moment mine.
They echo and glimmer in my mind
As I blow them out by my own sighing.

Events and days become opaque
Perception's dulled by the music that grates,
On the minds and moods that numbly swing,
As though I lost the words I sing;
I hold to the illusion of being here
And hope that all will reappear.