Flange Dream

The meadow glistened, then faded as an Aztec house
Suddenly morphed into a clock, and back into
A house. The flowers withered only to be replaced by shrubs.
All of us (whoever we were) ran our separate ways.
I was on the roof and it was moving, swaying with no rhythm
As two suns closed in to become a single moon.
Then crickets and frogs and Aztec walls. Echo of
Croaking and tick-tock surroundings.
The chimneys were like helicopters and I was
Alone. The meadow was yellow again.

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