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

Recent Posts

See All