Brass <br />copper monkeys <br />fly at my eyes <br />in the moonlight, <br />where I sometimes walk <br />with my shadow. <br /> <br />And there are times <br />when I feel <br />like all of the images <br />of my world <br />are just clay figures <br />fired upon <br />some insane furnace, <br />where all of my dreams <br />are made real.<br /><br />Sandra Osborne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brass-copper-monkeys/
