DREAMS - a poem for Friday Fictioneers

DREAMS

Each paper slip is a dream -

Green for walking in woods

where looming trees

grasp with gnarled fingers

Blue for drowning

yards from a shore

where no-one hears her screams

Red for dreams of sex

that leave her aching but alone

And the shells are those rare mornings

when she wakes refreshed

her subconscious washed clean

of a myriad hurts.

..................................................................

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers and to Priya Biapal for the image that prompted me this week to write a poem rather than flash fiction. Follow the links from Rochelle's blog  https://rochellewisoff.com/ to read what other writers were inspired to write.