Saturday, January 4, 2025, 15* Overcast
Held my breath as I slid the door into the dark, not letting in breath-stealing air. We were in a warehouse? apartment house? Wooden. Abandoned. In a hurry. Dark there too. Not quite running but moving quicker than comfortable. Stairs. Hallways. Locked doors. This way. Three came up the ramp eager for warmth, for a biscuit. We returned to our beds.
After being doused in cold, did the dogs go back to sleep so quickly? Do they have bad dreams? I’ve watched Ruger running as he sleeps by my chair...dreaming of things he wants and can no longer do? I think about being lost, city streets, places I’ve only been in dreams. A pattern of 3 beginning, only 1 finishing. Fodder for poems which I’ve written, analysis of words, objects, colors to understand the meaning.
I slid the door a third time into gray morning. Warmer. Ice has captured the stream’s motion. Silence. No breeze. Thinking about the dream pattern of 3. Heart beating, still breathing. What dreams does night bring to trees? Zsolt looks at me with his quizzical face. I raise my arms as if to fly, he runs. We play.
May you be able to put aside what unsettles you and find some form of play. I Love You.
Photo: LJ Austin
