The Horse Was Not Lost

gather within the head,
like disembodied, disappointed fathers.
I strain to calm them, as currents continue
the slow pulver, reducing shouts to whispers.

An array of clay minerals dizzies;
All rock misconstrued as Gaudi Castles.
Gentle falls �" a glass sculpture above me-
has won the war without any battles.

A flagging heart’s fruitless struggle falls still.
My ephemera dies…me, my own traitor.
Organs nixing their end of the bargain.
Casually popped �" my bubble-locked prayer.

A dripping horse by the brook lost me there.
The threat of awakening: my worst nightmare.