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CloudShapes and NightThings

by Megan Guimbellot

It’s midnight and you are buried under a pile of paperwork that you could do
With your eyes closed.//You’re sighing and thinking of sheets and pillows and the warmth of a woman next to you.

I am far away, watching dragonflies drinking drop of rain that reflect a purplepinkorange sky and glisten as the pale yellow clouds float by
Fluffy and perfect
Like the smoke from trains in children’s coloring books.
Footsteps rustle jewelbright bugs from hiding places and they streak away, leaving glinting sapphire jetstreams in their wake//I am barefoot, my hair loose to swirl around my shoulders,
The way you always think of me///Land stretches, open,
Vast,
As far as the eye can see//no billboards or stoplights//the airplanes I spot are just birds way
up
high.

The river that slipslides its way through the grass tells stories to the stones it rushes over, whispers about the far-off beaches they will all live on one day when they have been rubbed small and smooth enough to become sand, because,
after all,
Time changes everything and even young, strong stones must let themselves be carried away by the wind eventually.

The air smells like honeysuckle, like the front porch I played on in the summers,
Growing up// the land is calling me
Begging me to stretch my wings and bury myself in all its wild beauty..

But I’ll sit here just a little bit longer, in this sweetsmelling grass,
And wait for you to slip between these sheets and meet
me here.

05/26/2010

Author's Note: I definately dream in color.

Posted on 05/26/2010
Copyright © 2021 Megan Guimbellot

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