Waking Dreams

I woke up at 4:30am this morning to the whispered sound of this poem's first line. And so, in the dark, I quietly scrambled through my nightstand in search of a pen and piece of paper. I scribbled down that initial verse and then the poem wrote itself. I had hoped to write one last poem before 2017 came to an end and .... tada!

Some memories

are seductively sneaky.

They slip away

from the receding tide of time

and are delivered into the present

upon the soft winds

of waking dreams.