Black Lion (Poetry)

I thought I was safe in there
locked away from whatever demons pursued me
still wrapped in the half-light of my dream.
I woke slowly to a room that held
a clumsy silence and its secrets close.

Minutes fled through cracks to other worlds
nestled one inside the other —
carved to fit infinity and spin
their stories — play creator
                                for an hour

recycling ideas caught in a loop —
images that stalked me, shadow-fast
and shapeless — rogue survivors
                                to the last.

Trapped on some game level where the rules
eluded me, I had to make my own —
escape the net — make a run for it.
I spied the door and summoned up the grit.

A sudden movement froze me — darkness peeled
itself from where it lay beneath my bed —
great padding paws, a massive shaggy head —
a black lion rose and turned its glare on me
as though my dream disturbed it —
eyes like lamps searching out my camouflage and
                                sniffing for iniquities
he huffed a warning...

Exchanging stares, the moment hung until
he turned away — glass shattered — glittered — lay
in sharp-edged pools. He vanished clean.

Left me cold to face a dull new day.