Wow. This is one of my favorites of yours I think. The feeling in this is sensational! My favorite parts are these:

they fail to gallop, shallow pools and puddles swing upside

down around the pinetrees splitting through them,

drifting in the timelessness, vaulting

in the vacancy

The sleet-rain shoots up from the ground

I arrive in this culvert of a

switchdeep dream.

Smooth as a leather lined book

I claim it as a reincarnation, as I

remain asleep in druid valley. (Such a poweful ending!)

The only hiccup I felt was here:

I arrive in this culvert of a

switchdeep dream. This seems to be a horse-drawn illusion.

Smooth as a leather lined book.

The word "this" is not effective in its repetition here. "Seems" weakens the statement. My suggestion is to leave the first line as it is (I adore it), remove "This seems to be" and start that sentence with "A", then add a comma after illusion and make the last sentence part of the second one (I love that one too). Alternately, you could remove the second sentence altogether-I'm not nuts about its perkiness and since we have some horse-talk earlier it feels like too much livestock to me :) For what it's worth of course; do as you will!

Unbelievable. This reminded me of knights from long ago. I can smell the roses.

Very chilling, cold, and alternate reality. It's the old Victorian mansion that used to be a pageantry of style and immaculation, but has shifted into decadence, and a different, eerier kind of beauty. Well, I'm just chock full of metaphors today, aren't I? :) bella

I really like this. It has a very new age-y feel to it, and that's what's drawing me in. And this is going to make me sound like a total fangirl, but it really reminds me of some X-Files episodes (don't ask me why), so that's making me love it even more. Regardless, some of the images in here are wonderful, your verbs are killer, and you have great alliteration. I'm favoriting it, just because of what I see when I read it. Keep writing! :)

And I remember drifting in the timelessness of your poem. )

Dead orange roses; a vivid image that stands out in my mind over a grayscale background of somewhere serene and peopleless.

If I had the sirname of 'Hilton', I'd definitely say, "That's hot."

last year they ran faster,

-druid. i cant think.

Beautifully haunting.