Torn Fabric
I had a series of dreams last night.
In each I reached through torn fabric.
I wasn’t grabbing anything.
There was nothing to grab.
No sensation preceded or followed
to explain or give context,
just torn fabric rubbing my wrist,
curious fingers wiggling in the air.
3 thoughts on "Torn Fabric"
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Dreams to ponder. meaning abounds in many directions.
Love: “There was nothing to grab.” and “torn fabric rubbing my wrist,/curious fingers wiggling in the air.”
Mike – I like how you take us from the abstract dream to the concrete images at the end. Your dream poems are so good!
Thank you both for your kind comments. It was a strange series of dreams.