He floats
like frizzy cottonwood seeds on a wind that is not really there,
not really.
And light and sound and rain
pass him through-
he is borne on a whim
over the still-living earth
waiting in the wetted hollow
of some behemoth fallen tree,
waiting.
Wistfully wandering
listlessly longing
dogtired daydreamer,
airy apparition,
are you just a moving lucid hallucination,
or is it me who lives in your
imagination?
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 8:19 PM UTC
He floats
like frizzy cottonwood seeds on a wind that is not really there,
not really.
And light and sound and rain
pass him through-
he is borne on a whim
over the still-living earth
waiting in the wetted hollow
of some behemoth fallen tree,
waiting.
Wistfully wandering
listlessly longing
dogtired daydreamer,
airy apparition,
are you just a moving lucid hallucination,
or is it me who lives in your
imagination?
Link to the illustrated version: https://www.jconradlucas.com/#/feverdreamer/
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