Dream shavings lie scattered on my pillow

Whittled to slivers of sparkle and shade

Curled up and disappearing into daylight

Brushed together into a handful of nonsense

Picasso’d deconstructions of unreality

Torn into scraps and gathered up

To be collaged into fragment fantasies

Other underworldly passages into dark divinity

Soul windows and secret passageways

That defy logic and reason naturally

With the assuredness of dreams




David Trudel    ©  2013




Filed under Poetry

3 responses to “Shavings

  1. That’s the thing about dreams–they evaporate so quickly, but beautifully too.

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