fragments of recent dreams – a writing exercise

a hummingbird – gently insistent –
tangled itself into my hair
and peeked from beneath to titter
into my un-understanding ear
***
they showed to me the uneven patch
you had mown in the grass – the short
beside the long – before the star super nova’d
in your chest and you fell to green forever
***
strange gray paint on the pillars
of that house in New Orleans –
I leaned on your rusted red bike,
said the universe wants me to tell you…

© Sarah Whiteley

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7 Comments

  1. Something happened with the “follow” button, because I came here today just wondering if you still hadn’ t posted since the sparrows and lo and behold all these January poems that I missed! I’m going to savor them now. And I think I fixed the “follow” problem.

    Like

    Reply

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