dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: dreams

sticky night air
dream walks
drizzle doughnut glaze
over child thoughts
until the moon’s
hard honeycomb glow
hits glass jar sides
like fireflies
and escape seems
to drip soft from
the sweetest star


Sometimes we kid ourselves,
Reaching like stray
Hairs and lint tufts
For the pocket change
We gave to the fountain long ago.

We wished smiles well
With a blind coin toss,
Forgetting that
Copper heads bite
And chase us in dreams.


I am wooden but carved.
I learn from rough paper strokes,
But when the metal edge bears down
I pull myself in-

I am wooden but carved.
I pretend that I am a flower instead, 
My dust falls as pollen,
Sunshine smiles
Through swinging bulbs
And drills buzz the bees’ song.

I am wooden but carved.
I understand “chip on your shoulder”
And “off the old block.”
I say I cannot rest with either.
I dream of a spring field to sway in.

I hope someone sees
My sanded layers
Fall like petals.
I am wooden but carved.


chip the color off
and tear texture top to bottom
let the warm corduroy ridges
slip away 

follow barefoot
your black and white dreams
touch the tight seams
that hold them together


Behind stained glass and curtain sheers,

Radio static and refined fears,

Translucent like acid rain,

We plant plastic flowers

And hope they grow.


Driving in the dark,

Dreaming for the houses

With their nightlights on the outside,

Window blinds tugged

Like  sleep masks firmly in place,

And dewy blankets pushed back

Just a little by

Each carport’s concrete fingers.

The car radio sings a loud lullaby

And I think

Being awake must mean 

Living more than one life.


Two pennies in the pool,

Wishes washed,

Purified

By sun and stares,

Your glares

Inspire me

To throw

My own dreams

Away.