I am in a dream made of oranges and sunshine; I barely remember the snowflake’s design: She gave a reason for changes and moonlight; and clearly September was her time to shine.
Grasshopper’s song carries her to me on boats over oceans that didn’t exist: fly-shooing memories are what she sings to me as bobbins stay stuck in their permanent twist.
Secrets are held in the waves that she floats in; where mermaids once lived, but are gone:
We never speak, only wave and find peace in knowing our friendship was strong.
I am in a dream made of gold, and loud laughter; of slim cigarettes burning long: Of TV parades with old and proud actors; of lack of regret, and flip flops.
The treadmill is silent, the birds flew to the beach, the smoke hanging still is now stale: Dream standstill is quiet, you’re just out of reach. But for your presence, I’m thankful.
The palm tree casts shadows on still, dancing ladies; I wake knowing my dream was real: I am swimming past windows and contemplating my wonderful Grandma, Lucille.
Cassandra Robbers, 2018