14.03.22: Always Opt for Peaches

Picasso Dinner Time

I’d Always Opt for Peaches

When I woke, and the stars were lost,
I thought I’d lost you, too. That dream,
it was all about death. Or so it seemed,

although I don’t think anyone died.
It was a glimpse, like dressing for dinner,
when dinner wasn’t about food, but

long-tailed jackets. Clothing without
direction, as if true north was a myth.
And all those pink peaches.

Did I forget to mention the peaches?
Yes, perhaps so. Peaches rolling about
like cheese wheels down a steep hill.

But I know that dreams about death
never mean death. It’s more about
new beginnings. A subconscious flush.

Truly, I’d rather dream of those peaches
because endings come soon enough.

Image from WikiArt: Dinner time (Evocation of Horta d’Ebre) Pablo Picasso. Original Title: Heure du diner (Evocation de Horta d’Ebre). Date: 1903 Β©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter

13 responses to “14.03.22: Always Opt for Peaches”

  1. dreams can be so disturbing. but the peaches are intriguing!


    1. The doc changed my heart meds a few weeks ago, and the new stuff gives me very weird dreams!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Drugs and their side effects. It’s rare to get off scott free, hey?


  2. I wouldn’t mind some peaches either 😜


    1. Ours are coming from South America right now, and they’re hard as rocks.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I hardly ever remember my dreams, so I hate that feeling you get when you are waking up from a good dream and know it’s going to be over PDQ. πŸ˜‚


    1. I think I read somewhere that we only remember dreams that happen when we’re on the verge of waking. All the rest go into some dream bin or other. πŸ˜‚ It’s all very dreamy.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. The dream bin. There’s an idea for a poem if ever there was one. πŸ˜‚

        Liked by 1 person

        1. It’s all yours. I don’t know what to do with it. πŸ˜‚

          Liked by 1 person

          1. πŸ€£πŸ‘


  4. Dream pain woke me up the other night (ie 2AM-sh) only to alert me that my gouting ankle didn’t want me to get up & walk into the bathroom, even though failing to do so would have been equally (perhaps more) problematic.

    A peachy write, Misky. Thanks.

    Liked by 1 person

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