chasing a dream

As night broke into pieces, I had a beautiful dream,

a thought which fled me like a deer

frightened by the smell and sound of people.

I chased the dream into the woods,

the trees growing thicker and larger

the deeper in I gave chase to the creature

Until the beautiful dream was gone

and I was surrounded by leaves

and tall, scornful grass, and bemused bushes.

My heart grew cold and I shook

as I heard branches crack and the birds

stop chirping as some unknown animal stirred.

A hunter perhaps? I crept slowly back

the way I had come, back to the growing light

of the white and rescuing morning sun.

Back to the start of the chase of the dream,

a dream with features as obscure

and anonymous as any wild deer. 

R. R. Shea