This dull day of grey clouds
skimming a soft wet sky
crows hopping through grass
stabbing grey grubs under leaves
still exposed by no-snow…
such a day slows thought
muffles sound and sense
to a buzz barely heard
under the swarm of feeling
just like the sensation of long ago
when I was seventeen.

I didn’t remember my dreams
when I was seventeen
just as now when I wake
to these bright days
filled with lightness
bounded by every grace
I may have dreamt brilliantly
of fractalled skies
full of spinning stars
of sweeter music
than ever played
or of love’s own face
restored by hope and faith…
If I do so dream
or otherwise
it is without trace or imprint
diminished to no thought
by the scope of waking joy.


About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
This entry was posted in Free verse, joy, love, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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