often returning into that old dream…
…where the summer rain has made a mist
that drifts over sunlit pavement…
…where the cool milk of lastlight is poured
into the empty bowl of the sky
and children scatter and one returning alone
stands in the dark outside a lighted window
motionless and lost in the jagged geometries
of a sunbright moth…
…where the contours of the winterbone forest
are obscured beneath the white-diamond snow…
…where a face surfacing in a crowded hallway
intensifies, becomes a new constellation…
Bryan Helton, b. 1985 – “That Old Dream” from The Manic Joy of the Dead
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