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When I close my eyes I swim in darkness I can’t leave my body behind Something’s always pulling me from the coast So many of the best things in this world Are measured out at dusk No bread bakes in the Sunday kitchen Now is the time the crow heads to her nest Some nights I dream of hands holding water Some nights they are a man’s hands Some nights a woman’s
Mike James makes his home outside Nashville, Tennessee. His many books include Journeyman’s Suitcase (Spartan Press, 2020).
Copyright 2021 Mike James
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The image of hands holding water. When I have that dream, the hands belong to a Masaai man. Past life?
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Perhaps, Kim. I believe in the truth revealed in dreams.
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