The Dream
I dreamt that you were dreaming of me:
We chased and treed the four winds and left them knotted,
Quivering and breathless against the trunk.
You had called to them,
Enticing arms stretched, inviting sly fingers rubbed like lips,
An enbowed beak,
And down they had slid.
I laughed and you cried; then we set them free.
This is very surreal – dreamlike and yet I can still see it unravelling as if it’s reality. Well done!