Tuesday, December 9, 2008

I once dreamed of Bob Dylan

In a treehouse, one walled and built from looking glass, the old man spoke to me; leaves colored like immanent death drifted and swirled, their reflection a knowing torture, and he said blankly, “You must walk the highway to get to the by-way.” I blinked twice, flashing sea stones at his face (like cracked, dried mud in noon sun) as he pointed to the lines on mine that had not been written yet.
Aleathia Drehmer 2008
Published by Lit Up Magazine 11/08

4 comments:

Julia Gordon-Bramer said...

Wonderful, Aleathia!

How are you?

nydia bonetti said...

Beautiful, Aleathia!
A Happy New Year!
Abra├žos
Nydia

Yukkione said...

"leaves
colored like immanent death"

I loved that line. Are you a dylan fan? Blood on the tracks would be on my desert island top ten list.

Aleathia Drehmer said...

I am a Freewheelin Bob Dylan fan myself. Love that disc.

Thanks everyone for your comments.