and these things should happen in winter

Because I did not know what to say to you, I dreamed
of what I wore. I dreamed of scrubbing rust
from the shower walls, of a gallery opening
in this city of locked doors and shuttered windows.

It was black silk chiffon, in case you wondered
just how far this ego’s awkwardness extends.
 

I was intrigued by this dream symbols prompt at Margo Roby: Wordgathering. Apparently dreaming of clothing means you are concerned with how people perceive you…

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11 thoughts on “and these things should happen in winter

    1. Haha, it’s funny how that ended up in the poem…in the “real” dream, I was wearing chiffon to an art gallery, no idea what I wore to scrub. 😉

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  1. I have a blogging friend who often writes her dreams. I love it because it always pulls me in – but also because it makes me feel like I’m not the only one with strange, vivid dreams! Your poem reminds me of her dream writing – it leaves me feeling as though I was just dreaming, sort of otherworldly.

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    1. Thanks. I think it might have started as part of a different poem, or part of this poem that then morphed into something else. 🙂

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