by Garrison Locke
In the dream
I’m running.
The room spins –
a yellow blanket,
someone has a gun –
Awake.
Tags: poem
This entry was posted on Monday, February 22nd, 2010 at 9:00 am and is filed under Creative Writing, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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