Monday, March 7, 2016

Morning


A stranger stirred me from a nap on a burgundy velvet couch in a cozy flat in London.
A darling black puppy licked my hand berfore burrowing into my side.
A flash interrupted the moment. 
I was pulled to the light outside my bedroom.
A rattling rumble of thunder tugged me further.
The dream unspooled leaving a trail of discordant fragments.
A violent morning storm was on stage in the canyon.
Sheets of rain became leaden with ice. 
Another boom,
and I was fully awake.



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