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The child loves to go to the park and pick up sticks. Like a dog, he will try to bring one impossibly long stick home, but he is 4 and by 4 o’clock he is getting tired. He still will not let go of one end. He totters to the car like this, at the carpark he is actually sleepwalking. I wake up, a wandering hermit crab slips back into its shell. Time concertinas, the mind plays tricks in too much light or dark. It’s 4 in the morning, I’ve been gripping the end of a twisted sheet. Strange, but I want to take it home.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 8/23/2019 8:51:00 AM
Hello Eric Ashford, now that is a strange dream you had. It seemed so real to you,that when you awoke you had the blanket instead. Have a nice day my friend.
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Eric Ashford
Date: 8/23/2019 9:05:00 AM
Thanks for the comments Darlene, Always good to get your feedback. Yes, enjoy your day also!
Date: 8/23/2019 8:00:00 AM
Very cool poem, an audible "Ahhh" producing piece. :)))
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Eric Ashford
Date: 8/23/2019 9:04:00 AM
Hey, thanks Maureen. Doing my time-slip thing again. Have a good one.

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry