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Madness
February 28, 2016
I dream of mania in the night,
of Hamlet and his rictus skulls,
of Ophelia and her dancing flowers,
strange truths within her fantasies.
I saw a man remove the dirt
upon his lover's grave.
Whether she be Catherine,
I could not tell, yet who
but Heathcliff would ever dare?
You may say you don't
want to go among mad people,
but ah Wouldn't you have to be
mad by half
to dream of us at all?
© Steve S., Marblehead, MA
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