Dream Land

I move through a world of light and shadow; of breezes scented by wet oak leaves and pine; of forgotten roads and lost highways; of deserted buildings and towns with no names.

I dwell on a road leading down to the sea, in a yellow cottage with white trim. A walk leads up from the road, through a gate and to the front door. Tall grass waves in the summer breeze and girls in cotton dresses bend over to pick the wild flowers.

I haunt disused pastures and shady country lanes. I walk beside old fences and rest in sun-dappled spots of shade and feel the stillness of midday in a quiet, lonely spot.

I walk down lonely roads and empty city streets; see faces unknown but strangely familiar, never stopping to speak, moving on.

I commune with ghosts and spirits of loved ones passed as if I were in their world or they in mine.

I visit here fleetingly in dreams but once I may never come back.

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