The dream

 

Erupting in color
Even when I do not tell it so
Across the ballroom
It places a hand near to its heart
Almost like a scene
Where the air is rich
And the sun is golden
Its light does not hurt the skin
That we can remember
The zest
A lemon cake
On a good afternoon
After a swim
overlooking the lake
On red varnished floors
the noises outside
Becomes the
the music
It becomes muted
And I am too busy
Looking at the letters
In a book
Because its pages smell
Like the pictures
The deep valley
They have in mind
The dream
Like the the shriveled leaf
sitting on the steps
Waiting for the wind to take it away.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Andalusia

In Each Light

In This Unopened Letter, I