A man is filling a hole with very white sand. The opening looks like the hollow a stone makes in the moment it hits a body of water.
Every time he shovels sand into the pit, he sinks deeper, as though the circle were swallowing him. He begs the hole to have mercy on him, and to my surprise, it listens to him.
In a sudden burst of energy the man plants a tree with human feet in the spot where he had been filling the hole.
Published by Christine
Christine Swint’s poems have appeared in Calyx, Birmingham Poetry Review, Slant, a Journal of Poetry, Tampa Review, Heron Tree, Ekphrasis, and others. Her poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and Best New Poets, and she has won first place prizes from the Georgia Poetry Society and Agnes Scott College. Her first collection, Swimming This, was published in 2015 by FutureCycle Press. She teaches first-year composition at a metro-Atlanta university and writes about poetry, art, hiking, and yoga at Balanced on the Edge, https://balancedonedge.blog
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3 thoughts on “Dream 2”
I like this dream! And what a great prose poem you got out of it.
Suddenly I put the dream and the illustration together: you’re out of your gourd. 😉
oh Christine~ this is a great dream. and the writing that flows forth is equally wonderful. nice pics. hope all is well.