Ageless Night
By Wren Hartlaub
I dreamt of a Moroccan marketplace--
Miles of Arabian Desert,
Chanting voices from towering mosques,
Hot wind sweeping the cries of street vendors
Into my swollen ears,
The perfume of fresh exotic flowers
Assail my senses
And I am awake.
A silent, robed figure steps out of the shadows
And into the street.
Eyes peer out at me from a furtive face.
A hand is raised to beckon
And suddenly he turns away.
Weaving between carts and dogs
I follow.
Tall walls of sandstone
Rise up on each side,
Darkening the streets.
Brown robes whisk around a corner;
A hand stretches out to entice.
I reach the corner.
Darkness envelops me.
Cobblestones beneath my feet--
I am Unbalanced and stumbling.
Chattering monkeys mock
And I sink
Into my bed.
By Wren Hartlaub
I dreamt of a Moroccan marketplace--
Miles of Arabian Desert,
Chanting voices from towering mosques,
Hot wind sweeping the cries of street vendors
Into my swollen ears,
The perfume of fresh exotic flowers
Assail my senses
And I am awake.
A silent, robed figure steps out of the shadows
And into the street.
Eyes peer out at me from a furtive face.
A hand is raised to beckon
And suddenly he turns away.
Weaving between carts and dogs
I follow.
Tall walls of sandstone
Rise up on each side,
Darkening the streets.
Brown robes whisk around a corner;
A hand stretches out to entice.
I reach the corner.
Darkness envelops me.
Cobblestones beneath my feet--
I am Unbalanced and stumbling.
Chattering monkeys mock
And I sink
Into my bed.
