Dream-verse

bleary-eyed father
runs down the trail seeking
something, perhaps
resembling silence
inside the crooked walls
of the shingled shack
below

not seeing
with eyes
but rather feeling
with memory
spring in the earth
around him
struggling also
to arrive
again this year
late

empty
bird feeder
in willow tree
budding

down-hill
reaching
for the runoff
runnels carved
in gravelly earth
and microscopic
horsetail forest

swollen
door
swung and latched
behind him

pen and
paper
in hand

seed opening
sprout of verse
a song for spring
let loose
where it flutters
and flowers up
and out
to the open window
trailing strong roots

embracing the shack
and all its fertile rot

bleary-eyed father
becomes bright-eyed
creator

breathing dream verse
in musty
shack

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