Sunday, February 29

I was dreaming when I wrote this

Last night, I dreamt that I was writing a poem -- well, actually, I was dreaming that I woke myself up to write down this amazing poem. The poem came to me in complete stanzas, and as I wrote them down, more came out. It was beautiful and lyrical and sweet. And sadly, it was just a dream. I can't remember any of the words now, or the ideas. It may have been about a woman, or love, or taking a walk. I have no memory of the words themselves, just the intensity and the flow and the ease of it all.

Perhaps I've been doing a little too much non-creative writing lately if the only time I have to write poetry is in my dreams.

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