You’ve made it to the sixteenth day of our 30/30!
Your prompt today is:
In winter I dream of
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QuillsEdge Press 
Drowsy dreams in grays and muted blues
Hazy visions of ghost memories
Bare branches and icy winds fuel an emptiness
warmed in candle light and Christmas cheer
Endings/beginnings topsy-turvied under quilts
Wakings/sleepings indistinguishable
Black bear hibernations in and out of dream
Dreams of green, dreams of sunlight
Dreams of waking from life’s despondency
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Night Lessons
Now and then I dream again
of that maroon velvet dress,
the one with the white pique
collar and tatted lace in the
hen and chickens pattern.
I was three, maybe four if I
wore it twice, but it was the
last childhood Christmas
when I still believed that
Santa would come to fill
the fireplace my brother
built in the kneehole desk
out of crepe paper, the tiny
tree from the neighbors
balanced above, and the
lot of it pushed to the wall
so the sofa bed could be
set up for the night. Some
time in the predawn, I woke
to see great lumpy shapes in
piled in the rocking chair
and knew my every wish
was granted, although I can’t
recall making any. Slept till
morning and awoke to
the white shapes of extra
pillows and blankets, my
brother’s duffel. I learned
not to dream after that.
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