It is the night and noises are nearer
Accustomed streets are rearranged.
A familiar wolf dog eyes me queerly
Its erratic head movements appear strange.
I pause to listen for what it hears
And a tuff of night wind scoops me into the sky.
I am pursued by carnivorous dogs
How can they climb as high as I?
They clutch me in jaws clamped tight,
And spit me out onto peaks of shimmering gold.
My old world no longer exists
And I climb this new one, feeling braver and bold.
I reach a veranda atop a precipitous cliff,
Where vegetation is fresh and obscenely green.
I peer down into the valley and marvel as
Gold coins wink and beckon to me.
I straddle the wood rail ready to make my descent
But Oprah invites me to sit and share coffee,
I am unconvinced until Barack and Eartha Kitt
Raise cups in a toast to me.
The Word Press Daily Post prompt is SURREAL
The source of this exceptional sculpture and photograph is unknown. Please share if you can identify the artists.