Behind my eyelids
I see the trees
Reds, purples
Sometimes
It is just colours
Other times
I see shapes
A green sphere
Atop a silver grey
Straight, plain, triangular
A thin tall triangle
Turning
To burnt orange
Or golden brown
I meditated tonight
Whilst next door
The clowns performed
We had been invited
But the message
Did not get through soon enough
More’s the pity
