Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
"In your bluish nightmare" for Bunny You have wings of a moth. You burn in blue flames. Cornflowers and periwinkle burst forth. You are running and the meadow caresses your small feet. You trip over a blue blue toe. The giant laughs and picks you up with his hand. You are not afraid. He has deep cobalt eyes. You see a lake reflected there. You climb over his cheek and fall in. You land on blue moss. Spruce blocks the sun. It's cool and it's Sunday and your grandmother is collecting honey for tonight's paprikash. You ask the blue harebells which way to go. They speak with an accent you don't understand. So you run toward a patch of blue sky. You tumble into a boat, paddle with blue oars. You are old when you reach the opposite shore. Dinner is long over. Grandma has moved. your mother banishes you to your room that disappears. You remember a friend from the meadow. He reappears aglow in the moonlight. He says "why did you kill me?" He holds a blue candle. You spread wings of a moth. You burn in his flame. 3 December 2009 [166.331] |