(no subject)
Sep. 8th, 2024 08:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
For the third day ash rains from the sky
It's someone else's ash
Lives burnt far from here and carried by the wind
I dreamed about a woman writing poetry
In the dream I was crying
And by the end we were friends
For the third day the sky is the colour of cement
It's my sky
To which I wake after dreaming of poetry
This morning each muscle is delicate but elusive
My body a stringed instrument
Which I never learned to play
I lie back in bed and pretend
The ash
Is a cage
It's someone else's ash
Lives burnt far from here and carried by the wind
I dreamed about a woman writing poetry
In the dream I was crying
And by the end we were friends
For the third day the sky is the colour of cement
It's my sky
To which I wake after dreaming of poetry
This morning each muscle is delicate but elusive
My body a stringed instrument
Which I never learned to play
I lie back in bed and pretend
The ash
Is a cage