Where Stories End & Dreams Begin
(Choka for Fran))
You wrap the night’s breath
in ivory sheets with stars;
in monochrome dreams
of wild Gypsophila snow.
You hear words spoken
in the language of a mother
tongue, that knows the lay
of the landscape in night’s pall.
Moonbeams shoot the breeze.
By morning, a grateful sun
dotes on gilded braids;
coaxing highlights, like dawn’s hush
over dew soaked fishing nets.
©️Orion Foote
Visions of Orion Poetry 