Somnambulance (2)

a haze of fruitless causality
flashes against the silver screen of my mind
clouding the rests between notes
hastily plucking at the strings
impatient to await the conducting hand
which with seeming superflouous
wand in a flourish
gives his flamboyant commands or

lightning at midnight
wailing sirens in a field
the kind of thunder shakes windows
and that incessantly

keep the edge
mistrust
the conventional cure
and steal a stroll
down main street avenue way