Sunday's Microscope
Stepping into tights.
Stepping into tights.
From my piano bench, I can see dandelion seeds float on the wind. There they go; sledding down imaginary valleys and floating on imaginary clouds. As my fingers travel up and down the keys, I wonder. Does music float? Just like dandelions? If I push up the windows high, lift the piano cover, play Hayden’s Surprise Symphony—will the music float out the windows and into the world’s ears?
I had a dream that we were walking
down riverbanks of ice.
My feet were slipping.
The snow had drifted high.
Then I woke and I'd been sleeping
underneath the deep snow
deep beneath the white snow
buried in the sweet snow
up to my chin.
Then I woke and it was just the blankets,
warm and home, in bed.
I listened to the songs left over from the summer,
from when I was at the sea:
all those songs I had in my head
back then.
And I can't decide, sometimes
if I would rather be here, or there--
**Both short, though unrelated.**
{1} Untitled (and possibly unfinished?)
the girl up on the balcony—
it's so dark, she's a shadow, she's unseen
high up in the rafters
she can hear the coughing, she can hear the laughter
she can see the magic and she can see the actors.
she's like a stormcloud up there, waiting
look out, it just might start raining.
{2} "Nightmares"
Trapped behind glass,
no way to escape
from this cast.
Keeping me here,
keeping me still. A barrier.
Things too close to my heart
to ignore,
but too far to grasp.
Unknown before
from behind this glass.
A want that is true
a dream that is beautiful.
But the reward is un-grantable.
The forbidden fruit
tempts even the good.
Fingers slide down
the surface,
tracing happiness
un-allowed, un-reached
but wanted.
**These were all short, so I thought I'd post them together.**
[1.] "The Arborist's Dream"
The cherry tree, I dreamt, was blighted.
Its bark was bubbling up, frothing pink at each joint.
The disease was making it turn into a cherry soda, all fizzy.
I, the arborist, with my ladder climbed
and trimmed, and pruned, and treated
but in vain.
I could not find the source and kill it,
so the tree was going to die.
*something I wrote for school*
It's official. The things that transpire in my dreams are the most creative and bizarre things I have ever come in contact with. I swear that no one has had experiences like mine. I know that some people dream that they can fly, or that they have super powers, or something un-graspable like that....but those things are at least semi-normal. Those are the things that we can day dream about during the day when we are conscious.