In my dreams.
In My Dreams I used to be a bird, a robin to be exact, a steady-eyed gatherer who sees in the tiniest of things--a twist of twine, a slip of string--sweet sweet home. I once believed that dreams were echoes of truth, voices of a past when people searched for wisdom in strong questions: the pastoral scene cloaked in silence and slow time, the poet's refusal to allow words to say what no words can say. That was before my cat died and before I grew old and before you walked out on me and kept walking walking
Billie Travalini
Wilmington University
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Author: | Travalini, Billie |
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Publication: | Journal of Caribbean Literatures |
Article Type: | Poem |
Date: | Mar 22, 2013 |
Words: | 102 |
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