Thursday, April 12, 2012

winter ghosts.

last night i dreamed about a foggy morning in some deep forgotten forest. it started in a bed. my toes were cold, but the blankets felt so amazing tucked over my shoulders. i stayed there for a bit shaking the sleep from my mind, then i stood to get out of the bed. I slid my feet gingerly across the creaky floorboards, slipped a small latch on a wooden screen door and watched it bounce against the peeling white skin of the door. i can already smell the rich soil drenched by the previous nights rain, it isn't cold but a slight fog clings to the deep green trees and the porch pops a bit as i step onto it, behind me the screen door swings shut with a thatching thud, one of my favorite sounds. i feel the moisture on my skin, my chest rises and falls under a thin shirt, the buttons leaving a cool tingling trail. somewhere music begins to play it is distant and swaying. my barefeet sink into wet soil as i walk out across a wobbling meadow the tips of wet grass sliding over my bare legs, all around me tambourines and quiet guitar, a soft humming voice, and wet grass. as i reach the edge of the clearing the sun breaks just above the treeline. the world itself turns to gold, and just like that i am awake. my toes are cold, but the blankets feel amazing tucked over my shoulders, and this song was playing.

JBM "Winter Ghosts"


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