Distant dream

It is a distant memory, this love thing.

An old dream,

a future thought

That now and again slices through my present.

It is a laugh, a guttural chuckle

a note

a groan

a cry

It speaks softly at first and then loudly - so definite its call.

I am alone

Twirling in an open field

Arms stretched out, head titled back, my curious eyes piercing a deep blue sky

painted with children’s style marshmallow clouds.

Love plays a familiar tune in the distance

The sun shines bright.

I am enraptured

then suddenly the clouds open,

even before it has a chance to turn a deep saturated shade of indigo blue, which it always does in this dream

thick, fat raindrops fall

I look around, there is no shelter

I stand still.

I am alone.

My future distant, my past gone

And my present in a deep dark longing for its future self.