Night thoughts

My dreams move.

From plummeting,

To soaring,

To galloping.

What spirit beckons?

From here to where?

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3 thoughts on “Night thoughts

  1. I can’t answer your question, but I can tell you that in my last dream, there was no plummeting, galloping, or soaring. I was in the kitchen, peeling a pomelo. I tasted it, and didn’t like it. The end. Your dreams clearly lend themselves more to poetry, even though “pomelo poem” alliterates.

    1. What the heck is a pomelo? Exotic fruits in dreams. Hmmm. Not sure what that signifies. Sometimes I wishing waking thoughts were as wild and fruitful as minds at rest (at play?)

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