Dreams

The stained glass

picture that is my dream,

shatters to thin, gossamer

shards as I as reach

up from sleep

grabbing at them, trying

to keep the picture in tack.

Too late, they dissolve,

sugar candy in my hands

and slip back into that shadow world

that is the nether

regions of my mind.

Bubbling just below the surface,

just out of reach

the images entice me,

tantalizingly close.

I turn to look and they

wash away,

chalk pictures in the rain.