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Dreamscape #87

The night is soundless and soft
The horse�s hooves
Fall Rhythmic
Gently clobbering the dusty grass
The journey is nearly over
Ahead a sparse cluster of pine trees
Lit up by a waning moon.
The horse carries me
Though his back is tired.
I get off and lead him through the trees
A SHIMMERING LIGHT
The moon swims upon the lake
I lead the horse to its edge and he drinks

I take the load off the horse
I take my rod from the saddlebag and set up a line
I make a fire from dead wood
The smoke smells of her
She waits beyond the mountains

The line starts jumping
I reel in a good size Trout
I made a quick end of its life
Then gut it.
Roast trout makes a good meal
It didn�t suffer not like a human suffers

The sky is cloudless
Blankets of galaxies
And I lay down to sleep
I wonder how the horse can rest
Without laying down.
I am without company and without whisky
My dreams belong to the night