Careless Dreamers
We are wayfarers
looking towards the night,
when our eyelids will fall
on another parched day.
For that is the time we rise
from the dry ocean bed
of each others mind.
They say we may only meet
in ethereal places,
somewhere between them
and a sallow moon
and when we fall off a cloud, wounded,
they tell us we are careless dreamers.
But you and I know
it is the cruel light of morning
that makes us fall to our knees.
© Christine Magee
