watching Where Eagles Dare
just ahead of Yuletide
came a bang from upstairs
while the snow fell outside
was that you, bro, up there
was it something you tried
just to make me aware
of the moment you died?
was that you, bro?

was your cigarette stink
by our old Christmas tree?
did you make its lights blink
and that bauble fall free?
did you want me to think
you were right there with me?
that you'd severed the link
from your human debris?
is that true, bro?

then an unconscious stream
brought a nice note of grace
in a bar, just a dream
where we had an embrace
and the overall theme
I recall, from your face
you're still part of our team
lost in time, Lost in Space
I miss you, bro

I said 'drop me a clue
next time, easily found
should you ever pass through
let me know you're inbound'
he said 'I always do
but it can't be profound
look for my subtle cue
and you'll know I'm around'
don't say boo, bro.

I must admit, I do suspect,
the narrator has nothing left.
No winning blow to slay the beast, no end of madness to say the least.

No more words
that please and set the tone
of narratives we’ve set in stone.
I’ll no longer follow nor will I lead some counter narrative to true history.

Many things
exist beyond
never
truly known
Every night
I die asleep
in dreams
left unatoned

Waking up
the weight’s still there
each breath
in labor bound
As voices live
within my ear
answers
— still unfound

(Dreamsleep: August, 2024)