Apr 22, 2012

A West Dream

 

In bed by twelve, mothering himself
like always. Turning with the motion of spinning,
sheets knotting between knees, he turns to
the left with a sigh.
Upon closing
his eyes, he finds himself moving
through a vast plain, with the crinkles
of yesterdays grass beneath bare feet.
The thick clouds pressing against
him like the weight
of a new lover.

Moving through the field, the air thickened
with humidity, like a moist thicket after a rain.
Huffing even faster, and coming upon the edge of
verdurous woodland with trees the size of giants,
and the color of her cheeks.
Stumbling upon her alluvial flat, bumping up to the side of a gorge,
the trees sway hypnotically, rippling like small explosions
through the length of their trunks. The moan
parting lips, with the warm breath just before a kiss, lost
within the cathedral-like forest.
Inflamed with passion
westerly breezes move the valiant storm in
tinging with electricity,
penetrating deeper than the night.

Climbing to the top of the hillside, the trees on the flat
below like a blue eyed babe, the morning after.
The clouds thin, vision less hazy, eyes open
with the desperation of night, giving way to dawn.