Opinions on a Pipe Dream

By Bethan Freeman

A sickly mist stands meekly in limbo above the scorched land

Differing influences meeting each other, a direct conjunction

Will the force of what is supposed to be

endow the vegetation with what it needs?

Will it continue to smoulder or will the sky unfold

Tumbling drops of a pipe dream

Reaching the earth and converting to tear shaped flames

Which we suck gladly through a white, small fingerbone-sized consolidation

Taking it down deep, Cancer sticks and stones

To live so impetuously, and never take a chance

On your pipe dream ?

Influence is stacked up against walls and on shelves

Perhaps the rainstorm won’t be enough to

Reintroduce the emerald plains and high grounds

A feeling of relief knowing that leastways,

The small corner of the sphere

Imprinted with my footprints like tyre tracks

Could ensue a viridescent hereafter.

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