Monday, November 7, 2016

Lizz Murphy - Poem 312: Dream



Dream
a pie shaped like a hand
a friend sitting by herself
the friend she is meeting
hasn’t shown
she is sad
I am happy to see her
I buy my hand-shaped pie
return to the table
She is gone

I would like to write
about the muses
Head thick with sleep
eyes dragging
words lost in the fog
feeling the long haul
no poem tonight


4 comments:

  1. Marvelous in any way, Lizz. How they come close to us like a cat sniffing for the seconds that we have for them. We're lucky they will sometimes return in dreams and in the other special moments that we see day to day. I like to think that they're always reminding us that they're nearby and usually they're offering help us to get to that music. :)

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  2. how I often feel trying to write one each night!

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  3. Thanx for all comments. Love those positive takes on the muses.

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