Awakening From a Dream

Dry Wood

I look at the yellow grass,
the stagnant pool of water.

If I squint, they are the heads of daisies
and a pond hiding tadpoles
and lotus buds.

But the bare-limbed tree
with its slender nude branches
begs me for invisible clothes;
these, I cannot fashion.


Author: redgladiola

Creative writer happily predisposed to flights of fancy. You can find my poetry and short prose at

2 thoughts on “Awakening From a Dream”

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