I dream of rising from sleep at an early light,
and dropping quiet down the way.
A misty darkness dances through from night,
the dampness cold and young— new day.
I dream of opening onto bright azure,
a calm and rounding sea.
A hazel trunk stands from the house and pours
branches ripe and lemonly.
I dream of waterly winds against my face,
and quiet stone beneath my feet.
A soft piazza warm with coastal grace;
a distant family waits to meet.
I wake and find my darkened room and sigh.
Gone, the whispering Adriatic of my eye.
Created: Dec 13, 2010domnero Document Media