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 Dream? by Violeta Avina The gentle wind brushing my hair, The white clouds making way for us to pass, The feathers through my fingers, Soft as cotton on your cheeks, The golden and white color of the bald eagle The forest down below us Waiting for us to get close So it could grab us With its miniature hands. The mountain side, Red, brown, green, gold, Mixed together to form A nebula. The whisper of the wind in my ear As if it's trying to tell me a secret That nobody should know. The blue sky above us Wanting to soak us with its blue ocean, The rustling leaves, Trying to make a song. They practice Until it comes out right. Every time we pass, I reach down, Grab a fruit from the tree, Sweet as glory Bright as a sun. The waving trees Saying "Good Bye," I wake up, Think.. Dream?
Copyright © 2002 Violeta Avina, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines |
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