Sunday, April 06, 2008

To mother

There was a dream and I wanted you to be in it.
I would have put you in my pocket
So you would have been there.

But you were a little rocky mountain
That stood up against every storm
And stayed firm.

And so I dreamed without you
But always feel deeply
Our dreams could live together.

Now I see myself as always being
The dream of a dandelion
On the side of this mountain.

(c. 1969)

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