Sunday, April 30, 2017

Blue jeans and


In the waking part of my dream, I’m on my knees in old blue jeans, planting flowers. In the sleeping part, I crumble sweet-aromatic soil in my hand, and, like a wise old chocolatier of a man, hold it up to the nose of my friend, and say to him then, “This, tells us everything.”



2 comments:

Jonathan Chant said...

Lovely writing, rich as the earth.

William Michaelian said...

I’m glad you find it so, Jonathan. Thank you.