Three New Poems: The Shell Game

(yes, the Muse is definitely back,

and she's really, really inspiring)

Just a Dream

Was it just a dream, when

You said I was your dream?

It was only yesterday

(At least that’s how it seems).

Words had tumbled out, and

Affections fell like rain,

Could it be my mind, or

Is it really not the same?

I wonder at the wonder as

I look around and see,

No one’s here (again)—

I’m thinking that it’s me.

But maybe I am dreaming, or

At least imagining, that

You were once as close as that—

That we were once a Thing.

So here I am again, I’m caught

Between the real and fantasy,

Was it just a dream my love,

Or is it all just me?

© Ray Cattie

Upon a Starry Night

The darkness feeds inside my head

Like birds upon the crumbs of bread…

Upon a starry night I see

Reflections of the things to be

Suspended there to my concern

Enigmas someday I will learn

I stand upon the Bearskin Neck

Perched upon a sodden deck

I balance there upon the strand

Upon a piece of granite land

The night is dark, as black as this

I ponder though I know not which

Of all the thoughts that cross my mind

Which of those to leave behind

I find upon my mind a plan

To leave behind my native land

Into the starry vault to fly

Into the deepening divide

Delving for the question there

Searching in the icy air

Changing raindrops into snow

To drift upon the sea below

Looking out I fix my gaze

Into the wond’rous starry haze

Overwhelming vistas there

Envelop me without a care

I wish upon a streaking star

And wonder how I'll mark the bar

To measure out my finest feat

Of introspection at the quay

But thoughts alone soon pass behind

I look into the darkened mind

And lose my thoughts upon the dock

They break as waves upon the rocks

The memories of times gone by

Are onerous and seldom lie

Upon my knee I bare my soul

Beneath that darkened starry bowl

…Like birds upon the crumbs of bread

The darkness feeds inside my head

© Ray Cattie

Sometimes

Sometimes

when the light is just right

Something

strange happens to the night

Someone

whistles, no one hears it

Somebody

bristles, nothing fits

Somewhere

there’s a personal loss

Someplace

(always makes the breath pause)

Somehow

we saw you in the breeze

Someway

you brought us to our knees

Somewhat

shaken, laid down again

Someday

waits, for the end of rain

© Ray Cattie