I Dream

I dream of roads,
of miles ahead without a light;
of long grass on a broken shore –
dancing, whispering,
alive in the lim’nal light.

I dream of silence.
No sound about or talking heads –
no radio voice.
Just the pistons’ beat and a mind ajar;
wind swirling in my emptiness.

I dream of smoke,
in fluid motion – beauty transient! –
in form one second,
shattered next;
no memory of its ever present.

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