
What You Don’t See When Your Eyes Are Closed
I hit the ground
running last night.
Like a Sunday matinée,
one of my greatest dreams
of all time. Ever.
And I can’t remember
any of it now.
A vanishing act.
It was epic though.
Like mathematics,
or an opalescent smear on a lake
or like crows staring down
a sunset from
a bare-boned tree.
Dreams,
like some trees that
manage to take root
while others never manage
to play the drums.
But as I said,
I woke from a dream.
It’s amazing what
you don’t see
when your eyes are closed.
Image by Unsplash. cc:00, poem ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting #apoemaday on Twitter
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