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Moonlight Theater
By
Larry D. Sweazy
One-eyed monster snacks
And red Kool-Aid malts
Glow from the black and white TV.
Held in a smoky ballet,
Friday night under the covers,
No sad songs, except when Frank
Does in the little girl by the pond,
Ghosts at the window, mad-men
Lose
on the street,
Ravens that peck at
The door make me shiver and long
To change the channel,
But I can’t,
I’m scared too good.
The night’s still young, the
Sun hasn’t risen, the undead
Still
walk the earth,
Awake in the other room,
Safe until sleep comes,
Until daybreak, until a
New nightmare
comes.
I watch and learn to dream.
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| Majestic
|
| By
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| Larry D. Sweazy
|
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Blue heron dreams and frog-throated
| Songs, sun-filled mornings against a
| Virgin pallet the color
of a cat’s eye,
| At last wrest to my vision
| A welcoming grasp of a
| Forgotten friend.
| And yet, there in the deep,
| A guilt hung by rotted leather bindings,
| Just inside the
tangled brush,
| Hidden and thorny.
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