That Hat

Keith Dodrill

Threads of consciousness woven gold
Spiralling fragments
Thoughts torn from sequences
Chaos and confusion
With no conclusion
Disharmony;

Levels up and down
Depths of disturbance
Almost waking followed by sinking
Something winking
A piece of memory, perhaps
An experience from long ago
A smell I can’t remember
A faded touch
Eggs in a clutch
Too much, too much;

Time has no foothold
Drips slowly from above
Silently
Colourless
Like dew;

Collisions from days
This into that:

Her in that hat!