Monday, March 13, 2006


this is a place of faded flowers
gently worn onto age softened sheets
that caress the cots in corners
where an ancient dresser rests quietly
against a slanted wall
where the water whispers
its tales to you
and dappled maple light
dances on your face
before you wake
from sleep
deeper than the lake
full of more dreams
than the playful window leaves
you have long wished for
where the water
knows and
even before
you open your eyes.

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