there was a
dream here
once,
it came in
via the
rain,
fed crops,
livestock, us,
but at dawn it
had gone,
taken the
bus to
somewhere
it could belong,
somewhere
made of
sturdier stuff.
I imagine
it rolling itself
up into
the dust,
coating the
backs of tongues,
speaking a
language so
different to my
own, I imagine
it finally feels
like home.