How do you dream? in color or in black and white, is this a poem? will you c/c?

* I ** I ** I *

It babbled
over the rocks
licking the surfaces
leaving a trail of debris
the sky heaved another great sigh
the moon peaked from
a cloud
casting it’s reflection on a restless pool
where it shimmied shining

He stood at the clearing
his profile caught in the night
a long…

Color, an uncommon cast of bright and dark which leave me contemplative thereafter, much like this vision.

Really nice work Nancy.

I dream in color to answer the question, then I went on this adventure with you all the way. I am hoping the silhouette with the long black braid, was a Cherokee Indian. i particularly like the last stanza,another wonderful trip with you.

Mind field – good. This was simply stunningly visuall. I kept wishing and hoping and the hopes came to light.
Very nice – beautiful language and imagery.

I dream in color.

Engrossing vision. The very last line, plenty clever, still puts me off track because it suggests “mine field” in a poem that is otherwise not linked to time in any way. The rest, evenly mesmerizing.

was there
almost singed by the charcoal`s violent shimmer
a glimmer of rope
i cimbed for a better view
cooled off
i did not notice the moon then
my instict
was to give you a soft landing
soft in the head

stone appals me
where you be
see in my fumbled-with seams
treading light and singing
tread on their screams

Well…. okay it’s a good poem. Dream in color? No more like sepia tone or kinetic scope vision also never in 3d or B/W. All my dreams are like watching a Charlie Chaplin movie.

I want to read more of the events preceding, both origins and circumstances of both parties.

I just found eyeball marbles! I thought I had lost them.

I was in the scene from the beginning and comfortably back out by the end.

Nice poem.

You took me there and I was disappointed it ended when it did. I was ready for more. AS to my dreams, they are vivid, in full technicolour and I usually remember them. As to this piece of writing, it’s poetically, prosey to me and I enjoyed it.

Silly!—You can’t sneak-up on an Indian…!
Great poem.

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