The walls of my sleep have been deteriorating,
crumbling

So full of holes,
that my dreams have escaped their dark cages
to prowl the world in the greenblue day.

Outside my windshield
Morpheus transforms the landscape -

sculpting traffic, trees and sky
Into mythic tableaus
of seductive beauty - hypnotic grace.

and then I am also transformed -

Into a bullet

For an eternal moment
I become a speeding messenger of death,

until the alarm of the traffic
breaks the spell
and the dreams scurry away,

to hide once more
from the waking world

and wait.