I lie in bed staring at the ceiling
I know it's every line
I know how the shadows fall
and wait for them
to hide the sadness
written there
before I close my eyes
I slip into a dream
bleak and bare as the ceiling
Even the moon is bare
and cold as stone
A watchful tree stands
rigid, silent, accusing
A violin begins
to keen piteously
A butterfly merely
a fragile shadow of itself
flutters, trapped
in an erratic flight
A rose weeps
a putrid bouquet
There are no shadows
here
Here there is no escape
from the sadness
written on
the ceiling
Rose
This piece was inspired by Paul Eluard
'Adieu tristesse/ bonjour tristesse/ Tu es inscrite dans les
lignes du plafond'
