THE DREAM
I lived through a dream one night,
Beginning in the usual way, a group
Of people on some common task
Gathered on the beach
Lit by a fire, within a darkness
Needing for one of them to die
"I'll do it" said my dreaming self,
Impulsive, eager to please
And so I died - something involving waves
Khaki green shorebreak, others were there,
That memory is vague,
But not the vivid beauty of the breaking day.
A dawn that reached into the west
A hollow vibrant violet coral light
The surface of a sapphire seen from within
Taut as a bowstring
Splitting the world of darkness.
I was laid out in the mud
Feeling the dawn, not feeling cold
Until a mother came,
Bent down, and looked at me.
"Poor boy" she said, speaking to herself
Then walked away
Richard Lawson, ?1997. I think this has something to do with war?
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