MD Kerr

The Dream of the Yellow Room

from Anachronism Ψ

Text of the poem on a warm gold  background flourish

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The room is real
And I was there:
Its curtains seal
The milky air.
The yellow sun
Is trapped and tall.
The years still run;
The space is all.

In different time
You too were there.
The silent chime,
The space we share,
The planes that trace
Your face assert
The time when space
Was all that hurt.

The room’s my dream.
I step inside
The quiet cream
Where love can hide.

Beyond that room
Another lies
In orange gloom,
And shadows rise.
It’s crammed with bed
And trainyard’s roar –
The blankets shed,
The humid core.

The train-tracks meet.
Your silent surge
Is truth and heat,
Our golden urge.
The windows shake.
You roar; I cry.
Facades can break.
Dimensions die.