• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 11
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I dream a black mountain puma
lounging in the crook of a leafless tree
as our train trundles west to east
into snow and a solitary
yellow larch appears in a wilderness
of empty branches.

I dream a life of colour, vibrant
filled with passion, children, joy
as we career together, willy-
nilly down a track appearing
straight only by turning,
turning and looking back.

I dream of sadness, rain and grey
mist cover in the valley
and the shadow, and the death
of hope, and a sudden spark
sears like a tongue of fire that licks
life back in play.