Tides

Drifting on a dream of people and places,
Of streets once seen, and countenanced faces.
Corners of yesterday, paths from the past,
Have all folded away against wishes they'd last.
Stones plunging through water, ripples widening then gone,
Falling echoes of laughter, nightmares running past dawn
To continue as daydreams, falling harder than stones,
Ripping the day at its seams, tearing away flesh from bones.
Birds sing in the morning. Dragon flies at noon.
Sailors take warning, the tide's turning soon.