Author-To-Be

Gentle ripples overhead, Dancing lines all breaking, broken. Staring eyes, the words unspoken. Silence rules his world. Patchy green upon the bridge, The stony bridge as pale as dead, Waiting on the words unsaid; Silently, it waits with him. Shadow moves across his sight. His movement fluid darkness, flowing, Redness, accents softly glowing. Silent as he watches. Suddenly, he looks above. The silence of his soft world fled; The words he waited upon, said, Colors floating overhead, Rushing up from rocky bed, At the words of "Billy Bones".