I see wizards
Mingling
With hazardous potions
I see angels
Screaming
To mindless pebbles
And rustling up darkness
Digging deep down inside
Like leather bound bikers
Full of anger
Peddling motionless
Save small nods of the head
I see guard dogs
Chained
To harvesting trees
I see trimmed hedges
Floating
Like lingering strangers
Passing through the darkness
That creeps along
The side of the house
Trampling
Brightly coloured daisies
I see chains
Swinging
Back and forth and stairs
I see widows
Standing in the doorway
Holding a straw broom
Blue and white checkered apron
And a tight bun
Holding in gray
And many years of
Deep isolation