This One is in “Prose”


Last night I finally had a sweet, pleasant, simple dream. I can’t remember the last one that felt hopeful. It wasn’t lurid, or a Freudian masterpiece, either.

I was on a first date. With a lovely girl. I remember her having long, thin arms, and brushing away my hair as I drifted to sleep with my head in her lap. We were watch a movie in the park. I whispered “I love you”, knowing it was far too soon to say it. 

Of course, this “park” was the back yard of my childhood home. Because what other landscapes exist in the subconscious besides your earliest imprints? Sometimes entirely make-believe arenas you’ve never seen, but often we revert to our childhood. Where the world was really no bigger than your backyard. 


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