Sunday, November 4, 2012
Friday Night Dream, Remembered and Receding
We stood in the corner of a pasture. Or a yard given over to shagginess. A rock, a fence post, a tree--trunk gnarled with branches bending low. "Here," someone said. And we went in like Alice, the fall not like a fall at at all. When we arrived at this place below the earth the sky was still blue, the grass still green.
My 23-year-old daughter was a child of five or six again, her hair its childhood golden hue as she ran by holding the hand of a friend. "Wait," I said. "I want to look at you." She obliged just for a moment, turned and laughed. Then she ran forward to her future from this place in the past where I had been allowed a visit.
photo credit: The Someone (taken by him, but edited by me)