He was being chased. Through the dark woods he ran, nearly caught as he reached his front door. He leaped up the stairs and hid beneath the blankets.
He woke up, the dream still vivid, but kept his eyes tight shut.
In the silence he heard the door handle turn.
Written for Scottish Book Trust 50-word competition April 2022
snows are approaching
winds change direction
dreams fly higher still
in the dream I opened
the wooden crate
there was a thrush inside, standing on straw
she blinked, shuffled her wings
and flew into the distance
where an eagle soared
Inspired by Juan
through the window skies are blue
warm light lying still and new
in this place of dreams come true
monochrome photographs
I remember in colour
photographs and dreams
he paints the ceiling
with swirls of stars
and watches them in the closed-eye darkness
every odd-shaped interval
a single star gold-silver falls
till sleep or morning comes
sun
light on your skin
my dreams are habit forming
glossing the darkest days mistakes
until
with patience
the apricot morning breaks
on Valentine’s morning
in my dreams
I hold you in my arms
asleep
dreaming of warmth and security
and what we shall do
when we awake
I awoke from a dream
we were lying in bed
holding hands
the dream I don’t remember
simonsalento 