Tomorrow is today’s dream (after Khalil Gibran)

Today’s dream is full of bombed out cities,
mothers burying sons in back gardens.

Woodlands waving goodbye to swamps,
slick feathered birds flying into extinction.

Then,

a Highland coo
raggy coated
tatty hided
bellows back at the doom,
dinks a one horned salute my way.
Carry on, it says
in the face of

this.

The loch is inviting
I swim like a brick
so I stand on the shore
like the Stone of Scone

and
            I
                    breathe.

I wake, ready to take action.