“pinewisped”

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in my dreams
there’s this lake
and i can’t picture it, but i swear it’s the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen
g a l l o n s  upon  g a l l o n s  of strawberries, italicized and everything, just like she wrote
and there’s this cliff —
pine trees, lil baldy, a spackling of cedar —
between the two there’s a little boy
sitting on the edge
looking down at the bottom of the lake
and he can see the sand and the reflection —
the light in little lines across the ripples they left behind —
and all at the same time
it’s beautiful, wondrous even
and he’s looking at the waves and the gradient; the way the sunlight floats aloft
and thinking about how distance isn’t really the distance…
time, my love, it’s time

he picks up a bucket,
strawberries,
and he feels everything.