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My Dream

©2017 Sandra L. Reay

Colorado Sandstorm Music, B.M.I.

 

A purple sky and slate gray trees,

Fog that drifts around my knees,
From the void, a voiceless scream,
Quiet wakes me from my dream.
 
A dog's soft fur and feather quilt,
Stillness in a house well-built.
Bills are paid; the chores are done.
Peace descends with setting sun.
 
My pounding heart, can't catch my breath
Something scared me half to death.
Didn't have too much to drink.
Panic rules, so I can't think.
 
No fight, attack, or subtle threat.
Nothing strangles me with debt.
No one says, "Oh, no! You can't."
But, I like here still and pant.
 

A purple sky and slate gray trees,

Fog that drifts around my knees,
From the void, a voiceless scream,
As I slip back in my dream.
 
The holes in the roof let in snow and the rains.

Some holes in the walls show a view of the plains.

The barn sits alone in the lee of a hill.
No use for it now, but the hinge hangs on still.
 
 

"My cousin Rona's photographs inspire me. I saw this photo and immediately wrote the poem.." — San

 
 
     
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