Buried under a cascalade

 

I see a horse 

  racing the wind

You see a trout leaping 

 upstream

He sees a dolphin diving 

 through whitecaps

She sees a shark carrying 

 a child's arm in its smile

Peering closer as if stopped 

  in my tracks in a hall 

 of mirrors I see clown faces 

pressed up against 

 the stained glass panels 

  arranged in cascading polygons 

 which suddenly become whales

Bluefin tuna, petroglyphs 

 of panda bears in the desert

  small families hunkered in caves 

 while a hummingsquid shoveling 

for limpets gets strung along 

 the cordoned off portals 

  of industry meanwhile 

 from the corner a ray of light 

infuses the catastrophic 

 sculpture with brass scales

  reflecting an array 

 of configurations 

suggesting the loss

of the most pearlescent

 petrified teardrops

chambers of the hive 

agglomerated in a comb 

of spicy dust the polar 

  bear in hibernation 

 incubating as a drone 

confiscated by the reflection 

 off the camera eye I see a penguin 

  sleek as a curved chevron sailing 

 over the rainbow and crying 

gigantic shifting blobs of tears 

 dropped elongating into runnels 

  left over from the burrowing 

 worms of time from the yumanitu 

the stain you couldn't find

the glass in your mind

 The flowing stream of molten

golden memories lying frozen 

  on the catapulted ground

Staring Back

 It was a scoured day. 

Windfall crisp 

with a polarized glare 

to the sunset.

The scoop of blue radiated

 around the horizon 

bleeding from indigo 

into orange black

as the stars 

winked open

In the Night-blooming Garden

by Shaun Lawton   

  In the night blooming garden where signatures crawl 

into worm holes blossoming in the moldering corners 

the moon creeps out awakening the lightning and the

orchids stand tall and bloom open their haunted eyes

take a walk in my garden on a full moon after midnight

to see what I've allowed to grow wild there are flowers

which no one has ever heard of before that would never

be permitted near a child sit down for a spell and beware

if you fall asleep the creeper vines may pull you

into their lair below where strange mushrooms

sprout and eerie patches of fungus grow  

on elm trees and glow in the dark looking 

like a crucifix death heads moth

Pay no heed to the movements in the shadows 

so long as you stay on the path of my night 

blooming garden but do pay respect

to the hallowed grounds that you walk on

for the measure of your worth may be pardoned 

 

 

 

 

colorized in DDG w/F1 sT