I dragged the dreams….




I dragged the dreams reluctantly
through fields of mouldering hope,
across the riven chalk and clay;
beyond the place of crows.

The ravens watched with beady eyes,
the draggings dark and bright,
and fluttered wings of sullen death;
brought day to bed of night.

In silken, slow meanderings,
the images were brought,
from landscapes well remembered;
though source too long forgot.

It seemed as if a red-blood sun,
had burst horizon’s breast,
and rose in mocking memory;
the truth now full repressed.

But only in the looking back,
could traces still be seen,
of decimated life and love;
of light and broken dreams.

To gather up the fraying shreds,
to weave discarded parts,
would bring to birth new futures;
restore a grieving heart.

The mind can stitch so carefully,
can draw with graceful thread,
embroider with such faithfullness,
that life is brought from death. 

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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1 Response to I dragged the dreams….

  1. julespaige says:

    To me this encapsulates where most elders are when they are on the bring of letting go today in favor of yesterdays… It is hard to visit those 90 and over who find it easier to sleep than be active. Partly because it is not so easy to be active, when they are in fact more or less captive.

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