#1847-Nightdreams
Often as we age,
The child inside returns.
Last night I couldn’t sleep.
Instead of counting sheep,
I imagined unusual things.
Barking parrots,
Talking trees,
Raining marshmallows,
By the sea.
Eventually,
I did fall asleep.
It’s no wonder then,
First thing this morning,
I see smoking mountains,
Silently smiling.