The Solipsist

The solipsist meanders along
drizzly streets
absorbed in the clear cut stars
piercing his personal sky.

The solipsist watches clouds
performing pirouettes across the moon
feeling the pressure of
his crystal dark.

The solipsist knows a cathedral
of bleakness as joyous insight
worlds within his velvet case
a song without melody.

The solipsist finds meaning
in a wisp of mist
then wanders through his
forgotten streets.

Alone.