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 Dreams of Time
The lines suggested leaves
The colors suggested peacock
Neither was right.

Primary colored buildings fell
Like well ordered dominoes
And small sea turtles swam
By smiling through
The murky water
All that was left was
One apartment
Welded into place
Like a museum
To the dead
And the past.

I was no more
Than 5
My brother
No more than 3
And the black
Etzel speed along
A muddy road
Beside a sad swamp
The driver distraught
Plunged us all
Into the dark cold
Drink
As we floated up
And away
I remarked
In my little white petticoat
“that was silly.”


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