shadows casting forward
pastel edges
of water colored nebulous scenes
once known

i fuse with deja vu
in its feather-like fringe
i beg for the meaning
of history reliving

perhaps it’s a maze
tho’ previously scripted
funhouse mirrors silently mock
our own carnival

or is it a wink?
the north star is nodding
a slight innuendo
we’re not lost at sea

perchance it’s a hint
it is all an illusion
a glitch in the matrix
the black cat walks by

i grasp for the answer
and peer at the ghostly
parchment paper dream
as it dissolves to thin air

©2018janetaylor