It's the little things...
Flashes in the dark of night...
Crackling electricity across an amber sky...
Occasional dreams vivid and reaching just enough into waking mind...
Tendrils off the vine clinging to red brick walls...
Flying over local streets in the light of day,
Accomplishing small things when survival isn't at the forelock of the mind...
Tiny needful things...
Exposed to a burning sun for just enough...
Just a enough to produce vitamin D...
Just enough to visit local shops by the park...
Never enough time to spend the day...
The darkness of the lair always calling...
Comfort and shade...
Condensate cooled,
And comfortably armored...
The buffer zone ensuring a bit of a hold
On whatever sanity is supposed to be...
Scratching in the dirt and the dust...
Scrambling through the tunnels of mind...
The little things
Watching from their burrows...
Sleeping in comfortable pockets beneath the earth...
Waking world and dream world not so far apart...
The rules not so set in stone in either...
Both giving rise to the other...
Rising off the ground
Wings spread
Catching thermals...
107° Fahrenheit...
Records smashing as memory lies
That it's been warmer and hotter at times in the past...
Turning off the alarms just minutes before they sound...
Waking from dreams just in time...
Not wanting to disturb the twilight silence just yet...
Not quite remembering the whole story...
An old friend wanting to go home...
Her hair slightly smoldering from an electric discharge...
It's understandable...
The things that happen in dreams can be unpredictable...
Stormy skies in amber light causing reflection on waking life...
Daily rituals to tie it all down...
Wishful thinking and necessity...
Moving on...
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