Steve, there's quite a bit of background information to this poem you wrote.
'Annette's Dream' 'Annette had a dream and shared it with me the next morning. In the dream, she came upon some children in a forest meadow at the height of autumn. The trees were in fall colors of red, orange, yellow and rust, a scented breeze moved the falling leaves, the sunlight and the shadows angled lazily - it was the perfect cliche of an October afternoon. As she approached the children, she saw that they were playing around a small pile of pale gray ashes. They would reach into the pile, clasp a handful, raise their hands and let the ashes pour slowly into the wind. They were laughing and joyous. She asked them what they were doing and they replied that they were playing with my ashes. When I told Steve about Annette's dream, he wrote 'Child's Play'.'
I created an art piece bringing together my friend Annette's dream and your poem and the dream narrative, poem, and art piece were displayed together at the USCF/Mount Zion Comprehensive Cancer Center - all back in 1999. Thank you for your poem with its guiding imagery and beautiful language. Darin.
In Print This Week:
Dec 5, 2013
vol XXIV issue 49
The North Coast Journal Weekly
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