A Dream - Of Morning : April 21, 2013 / by Cliff McCormick

This is going to sound odd but...

I want to sleep at an old bed and breakfast with musty rooms, dark closets, discolored pillows and dusty drapery.... and a kind, live-in hostess.

I want it to be on the shores of some body of water just north of the bay.

I want to sleep, and wake before the sunrise.

I want to wake up...stretch...shower...and walk outside with a light jacket on.

I want the air to almost hurt.

I hear my footsteps on gravel. Quiet, small round stones roll, and grittily murmur underfoot.

I hear the water chuckle and fold.


It's probably got a red head. Like the one I saw on the fence.


I exhale and my breath billows before me, encircling itself; fractal; fragile.


I walk to the water.

There is orange.
There is pink.
There is purple.
There is fire.
There is small.
There is temporary.
There is all.
There is none.

Here you are

How are you!

How are you?

It is good to see you.

I have missed you very much.

I h...

It's warm; face compressed into the comfortably warm down of my pillow.

It's too bright.

The drapes are wrong.

They are not dusty, they are not heavy.

They are not .. maroon.

Is it a penny?

I inhale. 'One day I will know silence.'

I should stretch today.....

Coffee...mmm...hazelnut creme?..



coconut oil mfer...co-co nut oil.

"A Dream: Of Morning" April, 21 2013