A Marching Sound

I
walked
into shape of
night

pupils dilate slowly

it is
much like
the day

so much so
I walk easily out
nothingness

in
    my
         dream
                   there
                           are
visions

I follow them
to open green
field sharp grass
sharp smell of spring

so
completely and utterly
forgotten

a marching sound
heavy boots on leather
roads

a bell rings
twice
an unknown chime
unheard of

in
   my
        waking
                    there
                            is
dissonance

I search two bodies
wandering in piecemeal
moving on divergent
paths

we come face to face
silent stares
passing

strangers in stars amongst
the milky way sky
a picture book image of
the universe

steady shrinking
inaudible scream

in
   my
        eyes
               are
                    your
eyes

in the morning
your sun
washes shadows
hangs them up
to dry

begins anew.