The Unconscious

Costa Rica 152 (2)

In dreams I fly across the sky
on a white wingéd beast
who’s unshod hooves
leave the air
undisturbed

the hills roll
and rivers curve
through lush valleys
then slope into towns
where tiny people spend their days
not noticing

I rise above them
swooping on currents
touching the clouds
There are no boundaries
I am free

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