Last night I dreamt of a burnished American landscape in Fall
My reflection hung and pregnant upon my own gaze;
A swollen haunting of self, to myself.
I dreamt of trees blazing a furious trail of death
Weeping amber leaves.
I dreamt of the rich farmland of New England
And a sense of time that ran away
Time is running away.
Racing across a glazed-lit horizon
I saw the faces of children
I saw the faces of children
In timber-framed windows
Grimacing in the echo
Of the plump pumpkin expressions beside them
Smiling toothlessly.
#CapturedInWords
I have a terrible habit of never finishing what I set out to write and you know what? That’s fine. For me, writing is a progressive, evolutionary act and so I try to publish in short, first drafts to give myself less of a hard time and the freedom to capture whatever I feel at a given time.
You can follow along on Instagram with the hashtag. I’d love it if you added your own, too.
