A Bad Good Dream

by journeyintopoetry

 

Eyes half open
you realize it’s morning
and although a dream-soaked
forest of night,
star-scattered moon track,
insisted everything was well
and as before –

so excited you found you could run,
right arm normal again
pointing full stretch toward a Snowy Owl –
daylight now smirks a different truth.
You slide from the bed
good side first,
drag a broken body to the bathroom.
The mirror sees it all;
tsunami in a single tear of sad.

 

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