I dreamed I was
a little girl again
of six or seven
drowning in a kind of swollen river
both arms raised high above the onslaught
of wave after wave
flailing in a pantomime of
frantic fright
my mouth opening and closing
as I choked on gallons of muddy water
in my dream
I found me
smashed in a heap near a bloated
tree trunk
as if I were sleeping
silt glazing my half-mast eyes
sludge coating the once golden waves
of my tomboy-like pixie
in a dream you witness
in a dream its hard to interfere
I lay there
no chest rising and falling
no burial or pyre
to hide me
blunted out
like a cigarette
is this what
disaster looks like
my sleeping mind asked
life is an onslaught of waves
life is a tsunami
swim or drown.
7am after a long night of interupted sleep
Meloo/Melissa A Howells Copyright September 1st, 2010 TILT-A-WORLD
Yes, summer is gone, the summer of youth...its literally fall and I am treading near winter.