Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Dream



She dreamed, she said, a white horse
came out of the night to circle the house
at a fitful canter, stopping only
to call her in a voice pitched
between pleading and command,
until she took that mane
in her fingers, woke to a pillowcase,
a sense of loss, while something wild
flashed to the horizon in her head.
Dreams are like that. I don’t suppose
we ever gave it a second thought.
I wouldn’t think of it now, except
for the way the house rings with quiet
as the curtains flutter in and out,
the hoof prints flocked in the broken grass.

5 comments:

Minx said...

Beautiful, tinged with melancoly.

Atyllah said...

Oh wow - beautiful and evocative.

L.M.Noonan said...

A Philip K Dick thang about it. Have you seen 'blade runner'? There's an emblematic unicorn. Last night watched "The Commitments" again, after saw it many years ago...horses everywhere.

pundy said...

They're right. So beautiful. Wistful. You make words sing.

Debi said...

Yes - a true craftsman with words.