So many bad dreams – of incompetence and
lawlessness – come in this meadow of camomile and granite, that despite the
rushing waters of the mountains the road trip traveler (me) is woken in the night.
He (I) draw(s) eventual comfort from the moon -
full in a few days – and sleep(s) again ‘till the soft mist of rain or cloud
touch his face.
The cool thrill of the stream cleanses body and troubled
mind.
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